Everything We Had
by gleekinout
Summary: Rachel returns to Lima after 7 years away, bringing a closet full of secrets with her. When she left, she disappeared without a goodbye to anyone. In an attempt to escape the truth of why she came back in the first place, Rachel begins to look into the murders of local girls as well as striking up a relationship with the very attractive sheriff...
1. Chapter 1

**Okay, so this is a slightly AU fic/future fic. Rachel's just returned to Lima after leaving seven years before. After running into her old boyfriend, she still feels the love she used to feel for him. But, when girls in town start turning up dead with their hair chopped off, Rachel starts looking into it, trying to figure out why these girls were killed while also coming to terms with the reason she returned to Lima in the first place.**

Brittney Pierce drummed her fingers on the counter at the front of the local hardware store, desperate to leave. She'd been here since nine this morning and it was almost eight now.

"Brit?"

"Yes, Mr. Williams?" she asked, looking over at the kind face of her boss.

"I'm going to need you to close up tonight," he said, pulling on his coat as he did. "My wife just called and said she needed me home now. You can go ahead and start cleaning and restocking now so you can leave right at nine," he added. "Put everything from the registers in the safe along with the print outs of what should be in there. I'll go through it in the morning."

Even though Brittney had been working and William & Son's Hardware for the past three years, Mr. Williams, her boss, still felt the need to do everything his self. It wasn't that he didn't trust her, he was just a bit of a control freak (in Brittney's opinion, at least).

"Yes, sir," she said, nodding her head.

"Oh, and tell my son I promise this is the last night I'll keep you late this month," he added before walking out the door.

Brittney smiled a bit, looking down at the diamond ring on her left hand. Brittney and Brian Williams, the son of Williams & Son, had been engaged for over a year, now. They were due to be married in three weeks, and Brittney couldn't be more excited.

She walked away from the front, making a list of things that needed to be replaced as she thought of what else needed to be done for the wedding. She had her dress already, but she still needed another fitting along with all her bridesmaids.

Then there were the flowers, the music, and the cake. It was all so much to do in so little time.

She was hardly paying attention to what she was doing or what was going on in the store. If she had, she might have heard the door open and a pair of footsteps approaching her. But, since her mind was on wedding cake, she didn't.

A hard slam on the back of the head interrupted her thoughts. Brittney, thrown off balance from the hit, fell to the ground, blood trickling out of her head. She leaned up a bit, looking around and attempting to find the source of the attack.

She was pinned to the ground, a pair of hands circling her throat, cutting off her air supply.

She began gasping, but that soon stopped as well. Brittney's legs thrashed, the heel of her one shoe breaking on the ground as the other scuffed up the clean floor, leaving black marks in a haphazard pattern.

She struggled, fighting for her life. It was no use—her attacker was stronger than her. The person held her down, staring into her eyes as they watched the life drain out of them. She tried pulling the hands away from her throat, but they stayed there, crushing her windpipe. Brittney managed one scape across their face before her hand fell limp at her side, all life gone from her eyes.

She was dead.

The killer looked down at her, no sighs of remorse in their face. The look of terror was still etched on Brittney's lifeless face, her legs spread in a frantic position with both arms limp at her side.

The killer reached down, slipping the engagement ring off Brittney's finger and placing it in their pocket. They reached into their pocket, pulling out a small life.

Brittney's shirt was raised, exposing the pale, smooth skin on her stomach. That was disturbed a moment later as the knife was thrust in, the killer carving out a message.

Brittney, barely dead, began to bleed from the wounds, but the killer didn't seem to care. All they cared about was making a statement. And this, this was sure to get everyone's attention.

They admired their work, staring down at Brittney's stomach. The phrase 'dumb slut' was carved into her flesh.

There was just one more thing to do. Taking the knife, the killer hacked away at Brittney's long blonde hair, cutting most of it off. They took a little bit of it, placing it in their pocket while they left the rest of the cut strands scattered around her body.

xxxxx

Rain. That was always the sign of a bad day. As Rachel Berry parked her car next to an empty meter on the street, the dark storm clouds were forming and a few drops of water were beginning to fall from the sky.

She was back. For the first time in seven years, she was back in Lima, Ohio.

When she had left in the middle of the school year, there were lots of rumors surrounding her departure. Family death, private school, pregnant…the list went on. There were only a handful of people who knew the truth behind why she had left, and there were even less people who knew why she was returning now.

Rachel, now twenty-five and a writer for a lousy Philadelphia newspaper, had enjoyed the seven years out of Ohio. She'd moved in with an aunt in Maryland and lived there before attending a local college. She'd successfully escaped her past, turning her back to it and leaving it in Lima.

Though, apparently, her past had no intention of staying behind her for very long.

She'd never planned on going back—who ever does, after all. But it seemed God wanted her back there—or maybe it was karma who wanted her back there. Either way, she was going back.

The fresh pains of loss still plaguing her soul, Rachel climbed out of her car, locking the doors. She placed a few coins in the meter before walking into Carly's Pancake House. Even after all her time away, she still remembered it was the best place in town to get a cup of coffee.

Plus, she was trying to put off actually going home to her fathers' house for as long as possible.

Rachel walked into the shop, the jingle bells on top of the door ringing as she opened it. Every person sitting at a table turned to face her, and Rachel instantly regretted her decision to come back here. She could have stayed with her aunt or a friend or anyone, but she'd decided to come back to Ohio, to a place where she was sure people still talked about her.

She quietly got in line, ignoring the whispers that were echoing through the place. When she got to the front, she instantly recognized the girl taking the orders.

"Well, well, well, look what the cat dragged in," Santana Lopez sneered, drumming her acrylic nails on the counter as she gave Rachel the once over.

Santana was thinner then when Rachel last saw her—unhealthy thin due to a coke addiction. She'd also lost the muscle she had from cheerleading.

"Hi, Santana," Rachel said politely, putting on a fake smile.

Santana didn't return the smile, crossing her arms over her chest as she continued to stare at Rachel. "What are _you_ doing back here? I never thought you'd are show your face around here again."

"I never planned on it," Rachel muttered under her breath. "But I'm back for the moment. Now, I can't tell you how much I'd love to stand here and catch up," Rachel said sarcastically. "But I'm sure everyone else in line would like to order. So one coffee, cream, no sugar," she ordered.

Santana gave her a look of disdain before calling out the order and punching it into the cash register.

"One dollar," she sighed, snatching the bill from Rachel when she handed it to her. Rachel took the cup from her a moment later, walking over to an empty table and taking a seat, missing her home in Philadelphia already.

She didn't even know why she had left. Sure, what had happened there was god awful, but was it really worth leaving her comfy apartment and coming back home to be the subject of gossip all around town?

Yes. Yes it was. She knew she couldn't go back, not after what happened. And what she had done.

Rachel instinctively pulled at the sleeves of her sweater, pulling them over her hands as if she were cold. She wasn't going to think about Philadelphia anymore, she promised herself. She was going to forget all about what happened there. She'd only think of the future from now on.

Rachel was so lost in her own thoughts that she didn't realize someone was sitting next to her until she heard the squeak of the chair legs dragging on the floor.

She looked up, spotting yet another familiar face, though this one was even less welcome than Santana. Deep chocolate eyes, a crooked smile, tan and muscular arms from spending all day outside working.

It was the boy she had once fallen in love with.

Rachel was panicking inside. She'd worked so hard to escape from him, so hard to forget him. Yet here he was, looking at her the same way he had looked at her back when she was sixteen.

"Hello, Rachel," he said, his deep voice causing her heart to beat in overdrive.

"Hello, Noah."

xxxxx

Rachel's back was pressed against the door of Noah's apartment, her hands pinned above her head as his lips attacked her throat. How they had gone from a small chat at the Pancake House to his apartment in a matter of an hour was unknown to her, but she wasn't complaining.

Noah had always been good at getting her into his bed.

A key was thrust into the door and Noah pushed her into his apartment, his arms wrapped around her small body. He kicked the door shut, already tearing her clothes off.

"God Rachel, I've missed you so much," he growled into her ear, lifting her into his arms and carrying her over to his bed, lying her down gently.

Rachel reached down, pulling her shirt off and tossed it onto the floor. "This would probably be the right time to tell me if you're married or not," she murmured as she kissed up his face, eventually finding his lips again.

"Single as ever, baby," he promised, ripping her skirt off with one pull.

"I forgot how strong you were," she said, looking down at the torn fragments of her skirt.

"I'll be gentle, I promise," he whispered into her ear before starting to kiss down her chest. His hands grazed over her breasts, still concealed by her white cotton bra.

Rachel's hands pulled at his shirt, attempting to pull it over his head while he continued kissing her. Noah leaned back for a moment, helping Rachel pull his shirt off before throwing it to the ground next to hers. His lips were back on her a moment later.

Rachel wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him closer to her. All the memories from high school were coming back now. Late nights sneaking out, hook ups in the back of Noah's truck, a stick with two pink lines, running away from town without even saying goodbye…

She'd never even told him why she was leaving, or that she was leaving. She just left. She never called him; she just tried to forget he ever existed. And yet, here they were like no time had ever passed.

The bracelets on Rachel's wrist jingled as Noah pressed her arms to the mattress as he had at the door.

Noah wanted to press her for information, to find out why she had left the way she did and why she was back now. But that could wait. Right now, he really just needed _her_.

The ringing of a cellphone interrupted them. Noah let out a few choice words as he climbed of Rachel, his pants unbuttoned at this point.

"I swear, someone better be dead," he muttered, grabbing his phone off the counter and pressed it to his ear. "Sheriff Puckerman," he snapped into the phone. Rachel rolled onto her stomach, pulling his blanket over her body as she looked around his apartment. It was small and messy, but it was Noah. It fit him.

She rolled onto her back and smiled as she looked at the ceiling. He still had the stars taped above his bed like he used to.

"_I like to pretend I'm an astronaut and in space,"_ he used to tell her as they lay in his bed late at night. She used to sneak over to his house after her dads and his mom were asleep. With his job and her in Glee club, it used to be the only time they could spend together outside of school.

He still had the same ugly green comforter on his bed that he used to. At least it was warm. She laid her head on his pillow and smiled. It smelled like him—well, what she remembered he smelled like, at least. Rachel used to love sleeping with her face next to the side of his head.

"_Baby, what are you doing?"_ Noah used to say.

"_I like the way you smell. I want to fall asleep smelling you so I know you're here with me," _she would always respond.

"No, don't do anything," Noah was shouting into the phone, buckling his pants as he did so. "I'll meet you at the station. I want you to call in every available officer. We're going to canvas the whole damn town if we have to." He hung up the phone, shoving it into his pocket.

Noah walked over to his closet, pulling out a shirt and pulled it on, buttoning it up before sitting on the side of the bed, slipping his shoes on.

"Rachel, please don't get mad, but I have to go. You're welcome to stay here until I get back," he said, looking over at her.

Concern crossed Rachel's face as she crawled over to him, wrapping her arms around his neck as she kissed his cheek. "What's wrong?"

"Brian Williams called the station not that long ago, saying his fiancée never came home last night. One of our officers went over to the store where she works and found a pool of blood on the floor along with hair. The fiancée wasn't there. We need to find her. If there's a chance she's still alive, she won't be for long—not with all the blood she lost."

"So you have to go look for her?" Rachel asked.

Noah nodded his head. "It's my job. I'll be back later, I promise," he said, leaning down and kissing her once on the lips.

Rachel shook her head. "No, I'm coming to help," she declared, climbing out of bed before gathering up her clothes. The skirt was no good, but she still had her shirt and sweater.

"Here," Noah said, tossing her a pair of jeans that looked like they would fit—though they'd be a bit long and wide. "They're Becca's. She's always leaving her stuff here when she decides to stay here instead of home," he said, referring to his sister.

Rachel nodded, slipping the jeans on before grabbing her shoes and pulled them on as well. "Who's the girl we're looking for?" she asked as she pulled her hair back.

Noah sighed, looking over at her.

"Brittney."

**Like it? Hate it? Please review! Also, I'm still working on my other story, I promise. **


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: Thanks to everyone who gave this story a chance and decided to read it. And thanks for all the favorites/follows/reviews :D **

***Disclaimer: I do not, nor will I ever, own **_**Glee**_*****

"Brittney!"

"Brittney Pierce!"

People were canvasing the town, calling for Brittney. Noah, like most of the police department, figured she was dead. They were all in the woods, looking for her. Unwilling to let Rachel leave his side, Noah brought her with him to look after she refused to stay in his apartment.

"So you think she's dead?" Rachel asked quietly as they walked through piles of leaves.

Noah shrugged his shoulders. "I'm not entirely sure, really. I mean, I'm hoping she isn't. But all signs are pointing to us looking for a body instead of an injured girl."

"What a welcome home present," Rachel muttered. "I haven't seen or spoken Brittney since I left," she mused.

Noah looked down at Rachel, putting an arm around her shoulders. He wasn't sure what they were now. They'd almost had sex, and he was falling back in love with her like nothing had ever happened. He just didn't know if that's how she felt too.

Though, this wasn't the place to talk about that, nor the place to interrogate her about why she'd left in the first place.

Rachel instinctively leaned closer to Noah as he put his arm around her, glad he was here with her. She didn't know how she felt about him right now, but her feelings for him in high school were returning. She put an arm around his waist, staying close to him as they kept up the search.

"You know, I'm really glad you decided to come back," Noah said to her, not bothering to ask _why_ she returned. He knew when she was ready, she'd tell him.

"Yeah, I guess it's kind of good to be back," she said, her other arm resting against her side. "I'm glad I ran into you, at least," she teased.

Noah leaned down, placing a kiss on her lips. "Tomorrow night. You busy?"

"Doubt it. I did just get here, and you're the first person I saw after Santana," she added.

"Good. Then you're coming out to dinner with me. I'll take you on a tour, show you everything that's changed since you left," he said, rubbing her back.

Rachel laughed a little. "Why, Sheriff Puckerman, are you asking me on a date?" she giggled, poking him in the chest lightly.

"I am indeed," he laughed, though frowned when Rachel didn't smile. She'd stopped walking and was staring straight ahead of her. "Rach, what's wrong?" he asked, turning to stand in front of her, looking into her brown eyes.

"Brit," she whispered, raising her left arm and pointing behind him.

Noah turned, spotting something in the leaves. "Stay here," he said, pulling his gun out of the holster, holding it in front of him as he approached the body in the leaves.

Brittney's eyes were still open, a look of terror etched upon her face. There were smears of blood on her face and neck.

Her clothes had been torn off—she was left in just her bra and underwear. Noah stared down at her stomach, reading the phrase carved into her stomach again and again.

Her hair was chopped off unevenly—some places it was long, others it was short. The killer had fucked her one last time, taking the one thing a girl had that really made her a girl.

She was spread out in an unnatural manner, her legs stretched in a position that no person could comfortably achieve.

"Rachel, don't come any closer," Noah called before taking his cellphone from his pocket. He punched in the number of the CSI team leader. "Yeah, we found her. You need to get out here. Yeah, right by the small creek. I'll be here."

Noah walked back over to Rachel, who was still shaking. "She's dead, isn't she?" Rachel asked, looking up at Noah with tears in her eyes.

Noah sighed, nodding his head. "Yes, she's dead," he said, pulling her into his arms. He buried his face into her hair, kissing the top of her head. "This is why I wanted you to stay back at my apartment," he murmured, rubbing her back gently.

"This is the last place I would think I'd see something like this. Back near my apartment, sure. I hear gunfire all the time. I've covered murders before. I've even seen a dead body before. But not like this, not someone I know."

"I know," Noah whispered. "I've been sheriff for two years now, and I've one had five dead bodies. Two were from a car accident, one was an accidental drowning, and the other two were from two elderly people who died in their home. Never anything like this."

"What's going to happen to her now?" Rachel asked quietly, her eyes constantly darting over to where Brittney's body lay.

"The crime scene folks—they'll do their investigation here then take her to the coroner. He'll try and figure out what happened to her. Then, hopefully, we can give her body to her family so she can be buried."

"You mean her parents?" Rachel asked.

Noah shook his head. "No, they died last year—the car accident. She is—was engaged to some guy in town. Guess I'll be making the notification to him," he sighed, shaking his head. He hated being the one to tell people someone they loved had died. But he didn't trust anyone else to do it.

The crime scene team arrived a few minutes later, Noah directing them to Brittney's body. He promised he'd be back in half an hour to help with the investigation and for the transport of the body before leading Rachel out of the forest. "You can't be here for this," he whispered in her ear.

Rachel and Noah walked out of the forest, Noah leading Rachel to his car. He opened the door for her, helping her into the front seat before climbing into the driver's seat and putting the key into the ignition.

"I can bring you back to my apartment if you'd like?" he asked, though his voice didn't convey any of the lighthearted flirting it had earlier.

Rachel shook her head, wiping a tear from her cheek. "No, just bring me back to my car at the pancake place," she whispered. "My dads are expecting me, anyways," she murmured, her hands clenched in her lap.

Noah sighed. "Rachel, you're in no condition to drive. I'll drop you off at your dads house."

Rachel shook her head. "Noah, I'm fine. I'm not driving that far, anyways. Please, just bring me to my car. I want to get my stuff," she pleaded.

Damn her and her ability to make him do whatever she wanted. "Right, your car, then," he said, driving away from the woods, a crowd gathering on one side of the police tape already.

Noah never understood why people were attracted by tragedy. It was like a car accident on the highway. Other drivers always slowed to see what had happened.

Noah reached over, taking Rachel's hand as he drove. She didn't pull away, but she didn't grab his hand, either. She just let it rest there, staring straight ahead.

Things had been going great. Rachel had just come back in town, and she was more than happy to pick up where things had left off for them. But then some psycho decided to butcher Brittney and now Rachel was barely talking let alone allowing Noah access to pants like she had been an hour ago.

Noah pulled up beside Rachel's car, turning his car off and looking over at her. "Are you going to be okay?" he asked, rubbing the back of her hand with his thumb.

"I just saw the butchered body of a girl I used to know in high school lying in the forest like it was garbage. What do you think?" she asked in an even voice. Rachel turned her face to Noah's, closing her eyes as a few tears fell down her face.

Noah reached a hand forward, wiping the tears away. "Please don't cry, Rachel," he begged. "When I see you crying, it breaks my heart," he said, pulling her cose once again.

Rachel buried her face into Noah's chest as she let out a sob. "I can't get her face out of my head," she said, her voice muffled by his chest. "All I see in her eyes is the terror she felt before she died; knowing the person who killed her was going to be the last person she ever saw. It wasn't going to be her fiancée or her best friend; it was going to be a psychopath who was trying to kill her. I just wish I could have been there with her. At least she would have had a friend in those last moments."

Noah shook his head. "Rachel, stop," he said, kissing her forehead as he pulled away. "You can't change what happened to Brittney. But you can help me figure out who did it to her. You said you were a reporter."

"At a failing newspaper," she reminded him. They'd talked about what she'd been doing at the pancake house prior to the clothes-tearing session in his apartment. It felt like that had been years ago instead of just hours.

"You're still a reporter. You can go those places I can't go. You can ask those questions I can't. You can do things that I can't do because my hands are tied by the law. Rachel, I want you to help me find Brittney's killer. Call your boss. Tell him you have the story of the century for him."

xxxxx

It took about half an hour of explaining and some begging, but Rachel's fathers eventually let her in the house. They hadn't seen their daughter since they'd sent her away, and having her show up on their doorstep without even a call was unexpected. But, she was their daughter.

Once in the house, Rachel carried her single suitcase up to her old room, laying it on top of the bed. She took a seat on the edge of the mattress, staring out the window. It was weird being back here. The room still held so many memories for her.

She ran her fingers over the comforter, the same one it used to be.

"_Your room looks like it belongs to a five-year-old,"_ Noah used to tease her as he stretched across her bed, his head resting on her many pillows. Rachel would always retaliate by throwing one of her stuffed animals in his direction.

Rachel stood up, walking over to her old desk, piles of sheet music still sitting there. She picked up the one that was on top, reading over it. She doubted she could sing it anymore. After leaving town, she still sung every once in a while, but now it had been six months since she had last sung anything.

Rachel opened her purse, pulling out her cellphone. She dialed the number of her editor, James, pacing back and forth as she listened to the ringing. She was still wondering how she was going to propose this story to him, After all, a murder in a small town in Ohio typically didn't make the news in Philadelphia.

"Philly Speaks, this is James." Rachel paused for a moment, not saying anything. Last time she'd seen James, it had been to tell him she was leaving for a period of time, not sure when she'd be back.

"It's Rachel," she finally said, her voice low and meek.

"Rachel," James said, his voice kind. "Is everything okay? Where are you?" he asked. Rachel hadn't told him where she was going, just that she was leaving.

"I'm home," she murmured. She realized James would think that was her apartment. "I mean home in Ohio. With my dads," she clarified. James didn't know much about her, but she had told him about her parents one night when they were working on a story together, back when James was still a reporter.

"Home?" he asked. Every time James had asked about where Rachel was from, she clammed up before saying she'd never go back there.

"Yeah, I needed somewhere away from the city, you know," she murmured. "After everything that happened, I just can't be there right now."

"I understand," James said kindly. Rachel could picture him pacing back and forth in his office, occasionally sticking his head out of his door to yell at some reporter about a deadline. The thought brought a smile to her face.

She took a seat back on the edge of her bed, pulling at the hem of her shirt. "I have a proposition for you," she said, staring at the wall in front of her.

"Alright, go ahead," James said, though his voice seemed a bit hesitant.

"Something's happening here. In Lima, I mean. I don't know exactly what, but my gut says something bad is going to happen. A girl I went to high school with was murdered, and I know it's not the end of it. I don't have anything to prove it, but I just know she's not the only body the police are going to find."

James sighed. "You want to do a piece about this," he guessed.

Rachel nodded her head even though he couldn't see her. "I know I've never done anything like this before and I'm in Ohio, but this could be what our paper needs. A story about a reporter returning home in the middle of a tragedy."

"Rachel, are you sure you can handle this?" James asked. "I mean, after everything that happened, are you sure a murder story is what you need to be doing now?"

"James, I can handle this. I promise if I can't, I'll get out of Lima and come back to Philadelphia. Please, just give me this chance. Something bad has already happened, and I know it's not going to stop. I'm the only person here who can give Brittney the voice she doesn't have anymore. Please," she begged.

"Alright, but you call me every day and check in. As soon as I say you're in over your head, you drop the story and come back here. I don't give a damn if it's too painful for you to be in the city. You have people who care about you here—we'll take care of you until you're back on your feet," he promised.

"Okay, I promise," she whispered. "I'll leave as soon as I get too far in." Rachel said her goodbyes before hanging up her phone, placing it on her old desk.

She knew James was just worried about her, especially after everything with Caroline and Aiden that had happened in Philadelphia. He was like another father to her—hell, he was old enough to be her father. But she also knew this was what she needed, something to keep her mind off everything that she left behind in the city.

Rachel looked down at the bracelets on her wrist, slowly starting to remove them one by one. She pulled off her sweater and stripped off the jeans she had borrowed from Noah. She pulled her tank top over her head, dropping it on the floor. She removed the last few bracelets, looking down at her bare arms.

Her pale skin was smooth, free of any imperfections with the exception of two spots. On her left and right arms, there were two scars. They ran across her wrists, the scars still red. Rachel recalled the pain from that night. She remembered feeling hopeless and alone, not wanting to live anymore. She took a knife from her kitchen, slitting both her wrists.

She had just wanted it to all end, and had Aiden not walked in a minute later, she would have gotten her wish.

Aiden, her ex-boyfriend. He found her on the ground, blood pooling out of her body. He'd somehow managed to save her. He was wonderful then, promising he'd be the supportive boyfriend he'd been for the past three months she'd been dating him. And he was.

Well, he was until he dropped her off at the hospital and had her admitted to the psych ward. Rachel hadn't seen him since then, and she had no desire to. Aiden had deserted her in her time of need. Rachel had gotten the strength at the hospital to want to live, to want to carry on.

She knew, however, she didn't want to be alone. So she'd decided to come back to Lima. She'd escaped death once only to find herself in a town where girls were starting to die. Hopefully, she'd be able to find him before he found her.


	3. Chapter 3

"I can't tell you anything, Rachel. You know that," Noah said, lifting his glass and taking a sip of wine. It had been a day since Brittany's body had been discovered in the woods.

Rachel hadn't been able to get the image of her lifeless body out of her head. If she had any sense, she'd pack up and leave. She wasn't cut out to be here, covering the worst crime Lima had ever seen.

The only thing really keeping her here was Noah, she supposed. She had fallen right back in love with him. All it took was him looking at her. He had been the love of her life when she was in high school, and he still was.

The two of them were out to dinner at Lima's nicest restaurant (which wasn't really that nice). Rachel had been pressing him for details about the case, but he wasn't telling her anything. He kept bringing up the words 'conflict of interest' and 'lose my job' whenever she asked him about what else they had figured out.

"You know, you're supposed to be helping me out," she protested. "You're the one who told me to write this damn article, and now you're stonewalling me every time I ask for help," she complained, poking her dinner with her fork.

"Come on, Rachel. You know I can't. I'm the sheriff. I have to set a good example for everyone else who's working this case. If I start running my mouth to the press, that's going to make everyone else think they can too."

Rachel sighed. "Yes, but now I don't have any information about Brittany. I left when she was seventeen. I don't know about her anymore. My boss wants me to email him my progress every day, and no one is agreeing to talk with me about this. It's like they all hate me."

Noah shook his head, reaching his hand across the table to take Rachel's hand. "They don't hate you, Rach. They're just scared. No one here has ever had to deal with someone being murdered. The sad thing is, someone in this town is the one who did this. That's off the record," he added, causing Rachel to make a face at him.

"Come on, you have to give me something," she protested.

"I can give you a sleepless night," he muttered, lacing their fingers together.

Rachel's face went red as she looked down at her plate. "You know what I meant."

"Look, I'm sick of talking about this. It's all I talk about all day. I just wanted to take a beautiful girl out on a date and enjoy her company, not talk about a brutal murder."

"You think I'm beautiful?" she asked, looking up at him. Noah always used to tell her she was adorable or sexy, but she couldn't think of a time he actually called her beautiful.

"Of course I do. I always thought you were beautiful. Why else would I have dated you for two years?" he asked.

"I always thought it was because of my sparkling personality and the fact that I took your bullshit and never called you on it," she said, covering her mouth as she laughed.

"Well, I kept you around for those reasons, as well as the fact that you were willing to do every depraved sexual thing I wanted in bed," he teased.

"You know, talking about nailing me on our first date in seven years isn't going to make it easier for you to talk your way into my pants," she said, leaning forward a bit.

"Well, what can I do to get into those lovely pants of yours?" he asked.

"Tell me something I can use in this damn story," she said.

Noah gave her a look, letting out a sigh. "Rachel…" he warned.

"Compromise, darling," she said. "You want something, you have to give something."

"Talk to Santana. She and Brittany were really close. You didn't hear this from me, but there were rumors floating around town that Brittany was planning on running away with Santana."

"But I thought she was engaged?" Rachel asked, crossing one leg over the other underneath the table.

Noah nodded his head, finishing the wine in his glass before picking up the bottle and pouring himself another.

"She was. Her fiancée has put up a large reward for anyone with information about who killed her. They were supposed to be married in three weeks. But there was talk about Brittany not being so into the wedding. And then there were the bruises."

"Bruises?" Rachel asked. "What bruises?"

"Brittany was always showing up with dark patches on her arms. She said she was just clumsy, but a lot of people thought her fiancée was beating the hell out of her."

"So, you think he killed her?"

"I'm not allowed to talk about an open case," he said, shutting the discussion down. "But if I were you, I'd bring all my questions to Santana. If anyone knew what was really going on in Brittany's life, it's her."

xxxxx

Rachel and Noah wound up at his apartment after they had finished dinner. Rachel unlocked Noah's door for him, supporting him as she helped him inside. He'd finished the majority of the wine and seemed to be feeling it now.

Rachel laid Noah on his bed before slipping off her shoes. She hardly ever wore heels, but a first date with an old boyfriend seemed to be the time to wear them. Of course, her feet were hurting now, but it had been worth it. After all, she'd gotten a lot of information from Noah during dinner.

"Where do you think you're going?" Noah slurred, sitting up and pulling her onto the bed with him.

Rachel laughed, falling on top of him. She looked down at him, her dark hair falling into her face. He brought a hand up, tucking the hair behind her ears. Rachel smiled at him, her hands resting on his chest.

Noah moved his hands to her waist before flipping her onto her back, hovering above her. "You can't leave tonight," he said, kissing the side of her neck.

"Noah, stop," Rachel murmured, trying to push him back a little. "You're drunk. I'm not letting our first time in seven years be while you're drunk on wine," she said, though she responded when he started kissing her neck.

"Come on, Rach," Noah slurred, planting wet and sloppy kisses over her neck, his hands running over her body. "You teased me all night with this fucking dress and those fucking shoes." He grabbed a handful of the fabric she was wearing, the silk running through his fingers before he released it. "You can't leave me hanging like this."

Rachel bit her lip before sitting up. At first, it looked like she was going to walk out. Instead, she pulled the zipper on the side of her dress down, pulling the upper half down so her chest was exposed. "Nothing below the waist," she warned before lying back down, her upper body exposed save for her white, lace bra.

Noah looked like he had just won the lottery. Without missing a beat, he placed his hands on his chest, his fingers caressing the lacy material of her bra. He leaned his face down, capturing her lips with his.

Rachel wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing him back. She couldn't believe she'd gone so long without him. Right here in this moment, it felt like he was her other half. She'd always known that Noah Puckerman was her soulmate. She always figured they'd end up married with a bunch of kids.

But then he'd gotten her pregnant. Granted, it was her fault too. They had never been very careful when they fooled around. Rachel thought she'd be okay, but the positive pregnancy test told a different story.

It had been her dads' plan to send her away. They weren't going to let the whole town know that their teenage daughter had gotten pregnant by her loser boyfriend. They'd never liked Noah—they always thought he was a screw up and a loser. From the moment their daughter brought him home, they'd been trying to think of a way to separate them. That had been their excuse.

Rachel's mind was filled with what had happened seven years ago, not about Noah's clumsy effort to take her bra off. Turning her thoughts and attention back to his apartment, she sat up and pulled her bra off for him.

Puck grunted some kind of thank you before letting his hands move across her chest, squeezing as he pleased. Rachel fidgeted underneath him as he moved his lips away from hers.

Noah began kissing down her neck again, his lips moving towards her chest this time. He allowed his left hand to move off her one breast, leaving it completely uncovered to the cool air of his apartment.

Rachel wanted to press him for more information about Brittany and her murder. Now was the perfect time to ask him—he was drunk and probably wouldn't remember telling her in the morning.

But her mind was buzzing with what Noah was doing to her, what his fingers felt like scaling across her smooth skin. She let out a loud moan as her small breast was enveloped by his wet mouth.

His tongue grazed over her nipple, it instantly becoming erect. Her hands moved over his back, her fingers clawing at his shirt.

Rachel could feel Noah pressing against her thigh, his manhood hard. She moved a hand away from his back and reached down, rubbing him through his pants.

Noah moaned, her breast still in his mouth. She'd never said anything about his lower half being off limits.

Noah reached a hand down, unbuckling his pants and sliding them down to his ankles. He climbed on top of Rachel, kneeling over her as he continued his assault on her chest.

Rachel ran her hand across the front of his boxers before slipping one of her hands into them, grabbing him.

Noah paused, pulling his mouth off Rachel. She used that moment to her advantage, grabbing him and flipping him onto his back. Rachel took a seat on his chest, her breasts bouncing with the movement.

She leaned up for a moment, pulling the dress completely off so she was left in just her black underwear.

Noah seemed content with his position, admiring the view of a mostly-naked Rachel seated on his chest. Rachel crawled off him, unbuttoning his shirt as she kissed over his chest.

Once his shirt was open, she kissed down his chest slowly, trying to drive him crazy. Rachel had always been a bit of a tease, something Noah had always loved and hated about her.

"_Babe,"_ he used to say back in high school. _"Quit fucking around and just get on with it. I'm going to cum before you even make it to my dick."_

"Rachel," Noah moaned, his erection causing a tent in his boxers. "Please Rachel. I need you," he said.

Rachel paused her trail of kisses at the waistband of his boxers. She hooked her thumbs inside the elastic, pulling them down so he was exposed. Rachel had almost forgotten how big he was.

Suddenly, she started feeling nervous. She hadn't been with Noah for seven years. She hadn't been with _anyone_ for over six months. She couldn't remember how Noah really liked it. What if she screwed up and he thought she was a girl who was bad in bed?

Closing her eyes and pushing her nerves aside, Rachel leaned her head down and took Noah in her mouth. His loud moan was assurance that she was doing it just the way he liked it.

She bobbed her head back and forth, her tongue flicking over his tip. She placed her hands on his thighs, squeezing them as she continued moving her mouth.

Noah tried to remain still, but he began thrusting into her mouth, unable to believe his luck. Of course, he had planned for the night to end this way, but the Rachel he remembered had been a bit of a prude. Well, she had been when they first started going out. Rachel would barely let him see her in a tank top, let alone without a shirt on.

But he'd managed to change that until she was comfortable without anything on when she was with him.

Noah groaned, feeling Rachel's hot breath moving around his shaft. He wasn't sure how long he was going to last. He wasn't getting it regularly anymore—he hadn't _really_ gotten it regularly since she had left. There were girls he kept around just so he wasn't reduced to using his hand, but this was different.

Noah continued moving his hips up as she kept sucking. He felt her one hand move to his balls and tilted his head back as her fingers massaged him. She still kept the bracelets on her wrists which was a bit annoying when they jingled, but he supposed he could put up with it for now. After all, Rachel Berry was giving him a blow job.

Three minutes later, Noah pushed her off as he felt himself ready to explode. He flipped her onto her back, him over her. Rachel reached up, moving her hand up and down his shaft until he came onto her chest. He collapsed on top of her once he had finished, both of them breathing heavily.

Rachel smiled at him, wrapping her arms around his neck before kissing him lightly on the cheek. "Good thing you remembered I don't like you coming in my mouth," she teased.

Noah laughed, grabbing the blanket and pulling it over both their bodies, his arms wrapped around her small frame. "Of course I remembered," he yawned, ready to pass out. "You started crying the only time I did it. I'll never forget after that," he promised, burying his head against her shoulder as he fell asleep.

Rachel smiled as Noah passed out, her fingers running up and down his back. She knew she shouldn't be doing this. She was feeling attached to him again. And if she was attached, how was she ever going to leave?

xxxxx

Rachel awoke to an empty bed the next morning. She was wrapped in Noah's blanket in his bed, but he was gone.

_Rach,_

_Had to go to work. Coffee's in the pot in the kitchen and cereal's in the cabinet. Call me if you need anything. Thought we'd get drinks tonight—I'll pick you up at seven._

_Noah xx_

Rachel smiled as she read the note he had left on his pillow. She sat up, grabbing her bra off the floor. She quickly got dressed, feeling dirtier than she should have.

She hadn't slept with him even though she had wanted to. Besides, they were both consenting adults. There was nothing wrong with what they had done last night.

Rachel dressed in her outfit from the night before, pouring herself a cup of coffee in one of Noah's travel mugs. She was going to see him later—she'd return it to him then.

Luckily, they had taken her car instead of his last night. Rachel climbed into her car, driving back to her house. She just hoped her dads were out—she didn't want them to see her doing the walk of shame.

Rachel made it into the house and halfway up the stairs before being spotted.

"Rachel?" she heard Leroy call. She mentally cursed before taking a few steps back down the stairs, giving him a smile.

"Hi Daddy," she said, her voice full of fake cheerfulness. Rachel wasn't on good terms with either of her dads. They had deserted her while pregnant and never bothered to get to know her daughter, after all.

"You just getting in?" he asked, taking in her appearance. She was in a dress clearly meant for a date, her makeup was smudged, and her hair was a mess.

"Uh, yeah. I stayed at a friend's house last night," she lied. She knew it was silly. It wasn't like she was in high school, but she still knew her dad would be livid if he found out she had been at Noah's last night.

"I wish you'd have called. Your father and I were worried sick."

"Sorry Daddy," she apologized. "I'll remember to call next time," she promised. "I need to shower," she said, trying to get away from him. "I have an interview I need to do today…"

"Oh Rachel, how can you?" he asked. "Your father and I have always been proud of you, but this makes us ashamed. Your exploiting that poor Pierce girl for your own career."

Rachel felt her face go hot as she got the desire to defend herself. She had to remind herself that he was her father and not to get too angry.

"I'm not exploiting anyone," she said, her voice relatively calm. "I'm trying to get the truth."

"I've never liked reporters. They're leeches. They thrive off the tragedy of others. Why can't you just leave this alone and let the police handle it, though I don't know how they're going to solve this when that idiot Puckerman is in charge. How he ever go to be sheriff is a mystery."

"Noah's smart, Daddy. People like him. He's going to figure out who killed her."

"He couldn't solve this case if he was the murderer himself. Though, it wouldn't surprise me if he was the one who actually killed her."

"Look, I know you never liked him, but Noah could never kill anyone. He's sweet and kind. He liked Brittany."

Leroy Berry snorted. "Don't be so naïve, Rachel. I know you loved him once, but the Noah Puckerman you knew was a saint compared to the one who's sheriff of Lima."

"What's that supposed to mean?" she asked.

"You're the reporter—figure it out yourself," he snapped, turning away from her. "And you should shower—you smell like a prostitute," he called to her.

Thinking about what her father had said, Rachel headed upstairs, locking the door to the bathroom before climbing into the shower. Rachel made sure to clean herself completely, scrubbing the area Noah had shot his load the night before for a good ten minutes. It made her feel slightly degraded when she remembered him doing that, but she shook it off.

Rachel climbed out of the shower, wrapping a towel around her body. She dried her hair and applied some makeup before layering the bracelets onto her wrists. She had started doing that ever since she tried to kill herself. She didn't like people seeing the scars.

Rachel changed into a skirt and blouse with a sweater overtop, pulling a pair of black flats on. She grabbed her tape recorder as well as her notepad and a pen. She threw them all into her bag and grabbed her keys.

She just had to hope Santana would be willing to talk to her.

On the drive over to Lima Heights Adjacent, Rachel started to think about what she would say to Santana. She'd never officially done an interview before. She'd talked to people who had seen a fire or a robbery, but nothing like this.

She pulled up in front of a rundown apartment building, making sure to lock her car before heading up to the door. She located Santana's name on the list of tenants and buzzed her apartment.

"What?" came Santana's harsh voice over the intercom.

This was a mistake. This was a huge mistake. She should just turn around and head back to Noah's apartment and wait there for them. It seemed to be the only place she was welcome in this town.

"It's Rachel Berry. Can we talk?" she asked, trying to sound confident in herself.

"What do you want, hobbit?" Santana asked, not buzzing her in.

"I wanted to talk to you about Brittany," Rachel said. The intercom went dead.

Great, Rachel wasn't going to get Santana to speak to her, just like—

The door opened and Santana was standing there dressed in a pair of sweats and a large t-shirt. "What do you want to know about her?" she asked.

Santana didn't look good. Rachel suspected she was a coke addict, but it was more than that. She was clearly taking Brittany's death hard.

"I know you know I'm writing about her death. I heard you two were close, that you knew her better than anyone. Maybe you'd be willing to talk to me, so people could know the real Brittany?"

"Go talk to her fiancée then."

"Anything he tells me is going to be a lie to make himself look good," she said. "I want to know the real Brittany."

Santana seemed to hesitate for a moment before sighing. Without a word, she gestured for Rachel to follow her, leading her to her apartment.

The place was small and messy. There were takeout boxes everywhere and white powder covered the kitchen table.

"I'm going to ask that you not bring up that in your article," she said, gesturing to the powder.

"Why would anyone care about flour?" Rachel asked, playing dumb. Santana looked at her suspiciously before taking a seat on the couch. Rachel sat down beside her.

"I don't trust you," Santana said. "I know you're doing this to make a name for yourself—"

"I'm not, I promise," Rachel said.

"Then why do you show up back in town right after Brit gets killed?" she asked.

Rachel bit her lip. "Can you keep a secret?"

"Depends what it is," Santana said, her arms crossed over her chest.

"I'm going to tell you why I came back to get you to trust me, but you can't tell anyone. If anyone knew what happened, it would be really bad."

"Whatever," Santana muttered.

"I tried to kill myself."

"What?!" Santana asked, shocked. That had not been what she was expecting.

"When I left Lima before, I was pregnant and—"

"I knew it!" Santana shouted. "I knew you let Puckerman knock you up."

Rachel rolled her eyes but continued. "I was pregnant, so my dads went me to live with my aunt. It was fine—I had Caroline and finished school there. I went to college and graduated, then got a job working for a paper in Philadelphia. Everything was great for once."

"What happened, then?" Santana asked. "People don't try and kill themselves because their life is going great."

"I was seeing this guy—Aiden. I'd been dating him for a few months, and he asked me to come to a picnic with his family. I brought Caroline, my daughter, with me. We were about twenty minutes away when a pickup truck hit us and forced us off the road. My car flipped over and the next thing I knew, I was at the hospital. The doctor told me I had a concussion and a few bruises, but I'd live."

"What happened to your daughter?" Santana whispered.

"She was dead when she got to the hospital. The glass from the window went through her heart. She died quickly, they said." Rachel wiped a tear away. "I was okay for a week, but then I couldn't take it anymore. I slit my wrists, but Aiden came to see my right around then and found me. He took me to the hospital, then left me. I haven't heard from him since.

"I was at the hospital for a few weeks before they figured I wouldn't try it again. I managed for a few months before I decided I needed to get out of the city. So I came here instead."

Santana placed a hand on Rachel's hand. "I'm so sorry, Rachel. I had no idea.' Does Puck…"

Rachel shook her head. "He doesn't even know Caroline ever existed. I'm not ready to tell him yet. I will eventually, but not yet. I'm still grieving."

Santana nodded sympathetically. "I believe you. And I also believe you want to do this for Brittany. I'll tell you what she was like. I'll tell you anything you want to know."

Rachel pulled out her tape recorder and flipped it on. "Okay, I'm listening."

**Sorry about the long absence—I got a bit busy there for a while. I'm going to try and update this regularly. Please review!**


	4. Chapter 4

Rachel looked over at Santana before pulling out the tape recorder. "Is it okay if I record our interview? I want to make sure I remember everything for later, and I'm not a fast enough writer to take down everything by hand."

Santana nodded her head. Rachel clicked the record button, stating her name and who she was interviewing, then placed the little machine on the coffee table in front of them.

"Now Santana, can you tell me about Brittany?"

"What would you like to know?" Santana asked, pulling her knees up to her chest.

"What was she like? Did people like her or hate her? What did she do for fun? Was she excited about getting married or thinking it was the biggest mistake of her life?"

Santana smiled a little before she began talking. "Brit was the kindest, sweetest person I ever met. I mean, she was a bit stupid, but it was in a cute way. She loved to laugh and have a good time—we used to go out on the weekends and hit up McGillan's—they had karaoke every Saturday night. Brit loved singing. I think after she did glee club, she realized how much she really enjoyed it. That's why she joined the choir."

"Choir?" Rachel asked. "What choir?"

Santana laughed a little. "The one at Mercedes' church. She was the only white girl in it, but it was where she loved being. Everyone in the church loved her. That's where she met Brian."

"That was her fiancée, right?" Rachel asked.

Santana nodded her head. "Yeah, Brian Williams. He seemed like a real nice guy at first. He was nice when Brittany introduced us. It was all just an act, though."

"What do you mean?"

"Brittany would never have told anyone, but you knew something bad was going on behind closed doors. Before she started going out with him, she was this lively, bubbly girl. But after they'd been together for about three months, something changed."

"Was she depressed or something?" Rachel asked.

Santana shook her head. "No, but she started cancelling on me all the time. It was always something—she had to go out of town with Brian for a wedding, her grandmother was sick, she was sick. I knew it was bullshit. Brian was trying to cut her off from her friends, isolate her. And then when I did see her, something was always off."

"Santana, I heard there were bruises."

Santana fidgeted uncomfortably. Rachel clicked off the tape recorder for a moment. "I know you want to protect your friend, but you have to tell me the truth. I'm on your side, remember?"

Rachel clicked the tape recorder back on and Santana began talking again. "Brit came to me about a year ago in the middle of the night. I knew something was wrong right away—she had a cut on her forehead and a black eye. She told me Brian did it, that he'd been beating her. She kept going on and on about how he was a great guy and it was her fault he abused her."

"She thought it was her fault that he hit her?" Rachel asked, covering her mouth.

Santana nodded. "Yeah, that's why she never went to the cops. She also thought they'd never believe her—he was from a wealthy family and she had told the entire school senior year that she had a pet unicorn."

"But what about the bruises? Couldn't she just show them the bruises?"

"Brit was a total klutz. She figured Brian would claim she fell, and then kill her for going to the cops."

"So what did you do?"

"I told her to leave him, but she went back to him the next day. But every Friday, she'd show up at my house with bruises and cuts. I knew it was only a matter of time before he killed her."

"So you think it was him?"

"It has to be! No one else would have a reason to kill her!"

"But what reason would he have for killing her?" Rachel asked.

Santana began crying, burying her face in her hands. Rachel turned the recorder off, putting an arm around Santana's shoulder.

"It's okay, you can tell me. Off the record, even," Rachel pleaded.

"Brittany was the love of my life. We were going to run away together. Next week. We were going to run away to New York and get married. She told me she wanted to leave last month, but I told her we had to wait, that we needed more money." Santana cried harder. "Oh god, this is all my fault. If we had left when she wanted to, she'd still be alive."

"Did he know?" Rachel whispered.

"Brit swore he didn't, but he did. Every time she would come over here or we went out to do something, someone was following us or watching us. I know it was Brian. He knew she was leaving him, so he killed her."

"What about an ex-boyfriend? Could someone else have wanted her dead?" Rachel asked.

"The only other person she seriously dated was Finn, but they broke up two years ago."

"Finn?" Rachel asked.

"Yeah, Finn Hudson."

"I thought he was with Quinn," Rachel murmured. She used to have the biggest crush on him—well, before she and Puck started dating. But he'd been head cheerleader Quinn Fabray's boyfriend at the time.

"They broke up after high school. Quinn went to college in Ohio. Finn didn't get in anywhere. He asked Quinn to marry him, and she dumped him. She said she didn't want to be stuck in Lima married to a loser for the rest of her life. She's back now, though. Her dad had a heart attack a few months ago, so she's been helping her mom take care of him."

"Why did Brittany and Finn break up?" Rachel asked.

"I never got a straight answer about that from her. She told me it was because he didn't want to get married, but a week after they break up, she starts dating Brian."

"So you think she cheated on him."

"I don't know for sure, but the timing was just really suspicious. If you want to interview someone, I'd talk to Finn Hudson. "

xxxxx

Rachel drove home after leaving Santana's house, her head buzzing with all the information she had just learned. There was now not one, but two people who could have killed Brittany. She knew she needed to talk to them, needed to get their side of the story.

She'd already called Brian, and he'd hung up as soon as she said she was a reporter. She hadn't tried calling Finn yet.

Rachel pulled into the driveway of her house, parking her car. She climbed out, locking it before heading inside.

Her phone rang as soon as she walked in. Rachel pulled her cell phone out of her pocket and glanced at who was calling. James.

"Hello?" she asked as she answered the phone.

"Rachel, it's James," he boss said on the other end of the phone. "I'm just checking in to see how you're doing."

"I'm fine, James," she promised, dropping her purse on the couch as she took a seat. "I've already gotten one interview and—"

"Rachel, I don't care about the story. I mean how are _you_ doing?"

"I'm fine," she said, her automatic response. She knew James hated when she said she was fine—she hardly ever way. "I mean, I'm doing better than I was a few months ago."

"Are you dealing with everything okay?"

"I still miss her," she whispered into the phone. "Every time I watch TV or a movie or do something we used to do together, I can't help but think about her. I feel like I'm never going to get over this."

"It takes time, Berry. Losing a child is one of the hardest things we have to deal with."

"How did you and Mary deal with it when your son died?" James and his wife had had one kid, a boy named Thomas. He had died when he was 17 when his friend stabbed him. James had told her the story after Caroline died.

"We didn't for a while. I took a leave of absence from work and Mary quit her job. We left town and went to our house in Florida for a while—we just needed to get away. For a long time, everything reminded me of Tommy. But eventually, I learned to deal and reminded myself that he would want me to live my life, not waste it missing him. You'd learn eventually, Rachel. It's just going to take time."

"How's the office?"

"Everyone misses you. They all want to know when you're coming back."

"I don't know yet. When I feel ready I promise I'll come back," she said, though she wasn't sure if she would. Not unless Noah was going to come with her.

"Oh, Aiden stopped by here yesterday looking for you."

"Aiden?" she asked, sounding a bit shocked. She hadn't expected that."

"Yeah. I told him you were out of town and I didn't know when you would be back, then asked him not to call you—you've been through enough without having to deal with love life problems as well."

Rachel smiled, feeling a surge of gratefulness towards her boss. "Thanks James. I appreciate that. I got an interview today, but I need a few more before I write up something. I'll send you my first draft as soon as it's done."

"Take your time, Rach. And keep checking in with me. As soon as I get the sense you're not able to handle this, I'm pulling you out. Good luck."

He hung up. Rachel shut her phone, placing it on her lap. She drummed her fingers on the edge of the couch, thinking about what to do. It was just about noon, and she was completely alone. She tried to keep herself busy to keep the memories away, but now she had nothing to do.

"_Ms. Berry?"_ the nurse had said, coming into Rachel's room as she got ready to leave the hospital. _"If you'd like, I can take you to see Caroline."_

Rachel had followed her down the halls of the hospital and into the morgue. It was empty with the exception of a shape on the table. Rachel had walked slowly up to it, seeing the lifeless body of her daughter lying on it.

She looked like she was just sleeping. And she could have been—nothing was wrong with her except for the tear in her heart.

Rachel had clutched the body, rocking Caroline back and forth in her arms as she cried. The hospital let her stay there as long as she needed to. Rachel eventually pulled away, signing the proper forms to release the body to a local funeral home for preparation.

Rachel had been a mess at the funeral. Her Aunt Linda had come, but she was the only family member besides Rachel there. Her dads refused to come, and Rachel didn't want to tell Noah. She couldn't let him see Caroline like this, especially since he had never met her while she was alive.

"Rachel," someone said, placing a hand on her shoulder.

Rachel jumped a little, seeing Noah standing behind her.

"Noah," she breathed, placing a hand over her heart. "You startled me. What are you doing here?"

"Lunch," he explained, taking a seat beside her. "I thought I'd come see you instead of hanging around the station with the idiots I work with." He leaned over, pecking her lips lightly. "Sorry I left so suddenly this morning. We've been interviewing people about Brittany."

"Did you talk to Santana?" she asked.

Noah shook his head. "Not yet, but Sam's heading over there after lunch to ask her about Brittany. Did you talk to her?" he asked.

Rachel nodded her head. "I did. Noah, you need to ask Brian about it. Santana really thinks he killed her."

"Yes, I know. She's coming down to the station later so we can talk to her."

"So you think he did it, then."

"I never said that. I can't talk about this, Rachel. I'm the sheriff and you're a reporter. If I told you anything about this case, I'd be in a lot of trouble." He put an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. "Besides, I didn't give up my lunch to come here and talk about murder."

"Why did you come here, then?" she asked.

"I came here to see this really cute girl who's driving me insane," he teased. "I took her out last night, but I got pretty drunk and ruined the evening for her."

"Oh, she didn't mind that much. She thought you had a good time, though," she laughed.

"Oh trust me, I had a great time last night. I felt bad I couldn't return the favor, though."

"Well, if you have time now, I'm sure you could make it up to her…" she trailed off, rising to her feet and heading for the stairs.

Noah jumped up, following after her.

Rachel laughed, running up the stairs with Noah behind her. She made it to her room with him on her heels. Noah shut the door to her room, lifting her up and carrying her over to the bed.

"Babe, you really need to think about redecorating this place. I feel like a pedophile being in here," he joked.

"I haven't been home long enough to change it up," she laughed as she was placed on her bed, her legs hanging over the edge.

Noah knelt on the ground in front of her, his hands moving up her legs slowly. Rachel leaned her head back, looking up at the ceiling.

"Well, that needs to be your first order of business. Get rid of the pink and the stuffed animals."

"Noah, I doubt I'm going to be here long enough to have time to change it," she said as he pushed her skirt up, exposing her panties.

"Oh? Is the sheriff making you want to leave so soon?" he teased, pulling her panties down as she slowly kissed along her inner thigh.

"Oh, totally. If I didn't have a job to do, I'd have run away already," she teased, placing her hands flat against the bed.

Noah stood up for a moment, leaning over her and gave her a soft kiss on the lips. Rachel kissed him back, her body buzzing with anticipation.

Noah knelt down in front of her again, running a finger along her slit and groaning as he felt her wetness.

"Jesus Rachel," he said, Rachel letting out a soft moan.

"Just…please Noah," she whispered.

Noah nodded his head, spreading her legs before placing his face in between them. "Remember to be quiet. I don't want to get any noise complaints from your neighbors," he teased.

Rachel rolled her eyes at him. "I wasn't aware a girl needed her underwear off to just have a conversation," she said sarcastically.

Noah chuckled, shaking his head. "This said by the queen of teases. I think you deserve a taste of your own medicine for once." He leaned forward blowing slightly.

Rachel whined, her hips jutting up slightly. "Noah, please," she begged. "We don't have a lot of time."

"That we don't," he agreed before his tongue was on her. Rachel gasped as his tongue slid along her opening before it was inside of her.

Noah's one hand moved from her inner thigh to her stomach, holding her down while the other massaged her clit.

Rachel turned her head from side to side, squirming on the mattress as Noah did things with his tongue that no man had over done to her before.

Rachel could hardly stand it. She was gasping for air, her toes curling from pleasure. She had grabbed her comforter with one hand while the other was raking through Noah's short hair.

His tongue was removed before being replaced by his fingers, first one, then he added another and another. He began pumping his fingers in and out of her, his other hand still working on her clit.

This left Rachel's body free to move on her own. She began lifting her hips up, her hands balled into fists as she tried to control herself.

"God, Noah, I can't—I can't last much longer," she gasped out in between moans.

"That's okay, baby. Cum for me," he murmured, nipping at her inner thigh.

That seemed to do it for Rachel. Screaming his name, along with a few choice words, Rachel tilted her head back, her eyes shut tightly. Noah felt her go tight around his fingers, though he kept moving them until she had come down from her climax.

Once she was quiet, Noah pulled his hand out of her body, standing up and gazing down at Rachel on her bed.

Her chest was rising and falling quickly as she gasped for breath. Little beads of sweat were falling down her face. She looked like she was completely spent.

Noah climbed on the bed beside her, placing an arm around her waist. Rachel rolled on her side, curling against his chest. She smoothed her skirt down so she was covered, her panties on the floor somewhere in her room.

"Told you I'd make it up to you," he whispered in her ear.

Rachel smiled a little at that, reaching up to take Noah's hand in hers. She laced their fingers together, smiling at how perfect it felt.

Rachel looked up at Noah, looking into his eyes for the first time in a long time. She was struck by how brown they were, how warm and inviting they were. They were the kind of eyes a girl could fall in love with, the eyes she had fallen in love with so long ago.

Noah reached over, brushing the hair out of her face. "There, that's better. I don't want anything covering the most beautiful face I've ever laid eyes on."

"You're just saying that because you want to get into my pants," she murmured, her face red.

"Darling, I've already been there, both when I was younger and about five minutes ago," he teased, kissing her forehead. "Why won't you just admit that you're beautiful and get over it?" he said, hugging her tightly.

"Do you really have to go back to work?" she asked, feeling entirely too comfortable with him to let him leave like he had this morning. "Can't you tell them you don't feel like coming back and to handle everything without you?" she murmured, her head resting on his chest, listening to his heartbeat.

"Any other day, I'd say screw it and stay here with you. But Brittany was murdered, so until we find out why and who did this, everyone in the sheriff's department is working overtime, myself included."

Rachel sighed, drumming her fingers on his chest. "Why does it feel like this conversation is going to end with you cancelling on me tonight?" she asked, sitting up and looking down at him.

"Because I'm cancelling on you tonight. I feel really bad about it, Rachel, I really do. But if I'm making everyone else stay late, then I'm staying with them. Here," he said, pulling a key out of his pocket. "It's to my apartment. I want you to have it. Maybe if you're not still pissed you'll be there waiting for me when I get home." Noah kissed her once before getting up out of her bed.

"You're leaving," she said, not bothering to try and hide the disappointment in her voice.

"Duty calls. Maybe I'll see you tonight." Noah straightened his shirt and pants, not wanting to look like he went back for a quickie during his lunch.

Rachel jumped into his arms when he turned around, kissing him full on the lips. She wrapped her legs around his waist, her arms around his neck.

Noah smiled at the kiss, wrapping his arms around her waist.

Rachel pulled back, resting her forehead against his. "Promise me you'll be safe? I don't want this psycho to kill you too," she murmured.

Noah smiled, placing her on the ground. He placed a finger under her chin, tilting it up towards him. "I'm always safe, Rachel. I just want to make sure you're safe too. That's why I'm doing this, I swear. As soon as we catch this guy, I will spend forever making this up to you if I have to."

Rachel stood on her toes and kissed him again. "Go," she whispered. "I'll be waiting for you tonight," she promised.

With one more kiss, Noah left her house, climbing into his car and driving back to the station, leaving Rachel alone once more.

Rachel lay down on her bed, staring at the ceiling, thinking back to when she and Noah were still in high school.

"_Caroline,"_ he used to say. _"When we're older and you're a star and we're married, I want to name our daughter Caroline."_

"_What makes you think we're going to have a daughter?" _Rachel would always ask. There was no doubt in her mind back then that she would marry Noah Puckerman. _"What if we have six boys in a row?"_

"_Then we'll keep having more and more until we have a baby girl just like you. And we're going to name her Caroline."_

"_Why?"_ Rachel would always ask.

"_That's the song I sang to you that made you fall in love with me. Sweet Caroline. You were so against going out with me, but I showed up to that stupid club and serenaded you. We have to name our future daughter that. It would be wrong to name her anything else."_

When Rachel had given birth to a daughter alone, she kept thinking about all the times Noah had said he wanted to name their future daughter Caroline. She had named her that without even thinking twice.

Noah had been right. Caroline had been just like Rachel. She was so talented, even as a baby. Rachel knew that she would be a star one day.

But then she died. Rachel had replayed the accident over and over in her head, trying to figure out what she could have done differently.

The truck had come out of nowhere. It was almost like it had been gunning for their car. Rachel knew that was silly, but she had thought that since the accident. What if someone had tried to kill her? What if someone had murdered her baby?

It was as if death was surrounding her now. She had left Philadelphia to escape death, but it had followed her to Lima. Was every woman in town now at risk because she was here, bringing her cursed self with her?

Rachel shook her head, knowing she was being ridiculous. She put her head in her hands, telling herself to think rational, not noticing the pair of eyes staring at her through her bedroom window.


	5. Chapter 5

Rachel wasn't sure when, but at some point she fell asleep on her bed in her room, still dressed in her clothes from the morning.

She awoke to the sound of her cellphone ringing, her room completely dark at that point.

Yawning, Rachel climbed out of bed, flipping on the lamp at her bedside. She grabbed her phone as she rubbed her eyes sleepily.

"Hello?" she murmured into the phone, not having bothered to check who was calling.

"Berry, what are you up to?" Santana said into the phone, not even bothering with an introduction or greeting.

"Santana?" Rachel asked, still a little groggy.

"You sound drunk—have you been drinking wine without me?"

"No, I just woke up. I'm not doing anything right now, actually," she said, sitting on the edge of her bed as she stretched a little.

"Great, then you can come to get drinks with me now."

"Now?" Rachel asked, looking down at herself. Her clothes were wrinkled, her hair was a mess, and she had the distinct odor of sex on her. She wasn't going anywhere looking like this.

"Yes, now. I'm going to swing by and pick you up in a bit, so you better look hot when I get there. Ta," she said before the line went dead.

Rachel made a face. She had just wanted to stay in and work on her article now that Noah had cancelled, but it seemed Santana had other ideas for her.

Rachel headed to the bathroom and took the quickest shower of her life. She jumped out, barely wrapping the towel around her body as she headed back into her room, quickly changing into a simple dress. She doubted she'd have time to dry her hair, so she put a little bit of gel in it and defined her natural curls instead.

Rachel was finishing putting on her makeup when her phone rang again.

"Hello?" she asked as she answered the phone.

"I'm outside your house, Yentl. Hurry your ass down."

Rachel grabbed her purse, making sure to put her keys and phone inside, then headed out the door. Santana's car was loitering in her driveway, the Latina sitting in the front seat.

Rachel pulled the door open and climbed into the car, buckling her seatbelt as Santana drove away from the house.

"So, what brought on the sudden urge for friendship?" Rachel asked curiously. "I mean, I didn't think one interview made us drinking buddies."

"Look, I'm lonely Ever since Brits died, it's like I have no friends." Rachel couldn't argue with that—Santana had a habit of being mean to everyone. It wasn't shocking she didn't have many friends left in Lima. "And it's depressing to drink alone. You didn't completely annoy me earlier, so I figured you'd be someone I could tolerate for a few hours. Besides, I knew Puck was busy finding the bastard that murdered Brittany, so you wouldn't be busy."

"Yeah well—wait, why wouldn't I be busy if Noah was?" Rachel asked, caught off guard by her comment.

"Please, you must think I'm an idiot. He tells you to come talk to me about Brit, he's happier than I've ever seen him before, and you have this expression on your face like you've finally been fucked properly."

Rachel opened her mouth wide, letting out a gasp. "That—that's not true," Rachel fibbed. Santana gave her a knowing look. "I haven't been fucked," she murmured. "Not recently anyways."

Santana arched her eyebrows at her. "You mean you've been wandering around town with the sheriff who happens to be your ex, and you two haven't even gotten down and dirty?" she asked, sounding stunned.

Rachel shrugged her shoulders. "I guess I'm not ready to get _that _intimate with him. I mean, we fooled around—wait why am I discussing this with you?" Rachel asked, cutting herself off.

"Because right now I'm the closest thing you have to a friend here, and you're the closest thing I have to someone who can tolerate me," Santana said, placing her hand on top of Rachel's.

Rachel smiled at her. "You know I'm not into girls," Rachel joked, though she allowed Santana to take her hand as they pulled into the parking lot of Elliot's Place.

Santana got out of the car and Rachel followed her, making sure to grab her bag out of the car.

"You're going to love this place," Santana said, pushing the door to the bar open. "It's a little pricey, but this is the place to be in Lima. Go big or go home, right?" she joked.

"I don't know how much I'll be able to afford on a struggling journalist's salary," she laughed, pausing as she stepped into the bar. It seemed as though everyone was staring at them—no, at her. She was starting to get used to that, but she couldn't help feeling a little self-conscious every time it happened.

"Mike!" Santana called, pulling Rachel over to the bar as more than fifty pairs of eyes followed them. The dance music played in the background as a few couples danced together.

"San!" Mike Chang called, pouring a drink into a glass before handing it to the giggling girl in front of him. He leaned over the bar, pulling her into a tight hug before letting go. "I'm surprised to see you," he admitted.

"Oh come on, you know I never miss Thursday nights."

"Well, I figured you'd want to stay home after…you know," he muttered, mixing a drink for Santana. He handed her the glass, wiping his hands on his apron. "It's on the house," he added.

Santana smiled, giving Mike a slight nod. "Get Rachel here a shot of tequila and something a little lighter. That can be on the house too," she added, giving him a wink.

Mike rolled his eyes at her. "You're lucky I like you," he laughed, sliding the drinks to Santana. She took them, handing them to Rachel before placing her hand on her back, leading her over to an empty table.

Rachel took a seat, taking her shot as she did so. She made a contorted face before placing the glass back on the table. "So, you and Mike?" Rachel asked, giving Santana a look.

"He's just a friend. In case you've forgotten, I like _girls_," she laughed. "He has his heart set on the other Asian in this hick town, anyways," she laughed, leaning back in the seat as she sipped from her drink.

Rachel chewed on her lip, spinning her straw in her glass. "Santana, why did you really ask me out to this bar tonight? I know it's not because you like my company."

Santana sighed softly. "Promise not to kill me," Santana said.

"Well, that depends what you did," Rachel said, drumming her fingers on the table.

"I told Finn to meet me here. I figured you could interview him here instead of having to call him and everything on your own. I mean, he has tons of info about Brit. It could really help your story!"

Rachel pursed her lips. On the one hand, it was nice having someone help her get all her interviews together. On the other, she hated getting help from people. Rachel was a very independent person."

"Santana, that was really nice of you, but why would I want to kill you over something like that?" Rachel asked.

"To get him to agree to talk with you, I may have had to convince him."

Rachel went still. "And how exactly did you convince him to talk with me?"

Santana chewed on her lip before taking a long drink. After a few moments of silence between the two girls, she spoke up. "I told him about your baby."

Rachel wanted to slap her. She's told Santana that in private. She couldn't believe she'd gone out and blabbed to the first person she saw!

"I can't believe you!" Rachel hissed, not wanting to draw attention to the two of them. "That was a very personal story, and something I wanted to keep a secret. I can't believe you told Finn Hudson!"

"Relax Berry," Santana said, running her fingers through her hair. "Hudson promised to keep his giant mouth shut under threat of losing his balls to my perfectly manicured hands. So you don't have to worry about him spilling the beans to your baby daddy."

Rachel didn't look pleased.

"Look, I'm sorry. But he wasn't going to come unless I could prove you weren't out to make a name for yourself off this tragedy. I told him I trusted you, but he said I was mourning so my judgment was fucked up. Please Rach, just talk to him. If he tells anyone about what I told him, you have my permission to kick both his ass and mine."

Rachel let out a sigh. "Okay fine," she relented. "I'm not going to kill you, and I'll talk to him."

"Perfect!" Santana said, perking up instantly. "That means we need more drinks before he—"

Rachel shook her head. "No, not for me. I need to be relatively sober if I'm about to have an interview. Besides, someone needs to be able to drive us," she laughed.

Santana shrugged, signaling Mike to make her another drink. Quinn Fabray and Sam Evans walked in around then, hands clasped. Rachel thought something looked different about Quinn from seven years ago, but she supposed she had just grown up some.

Santana looked as though she smelled something unpleasant.

"What is it?" Rachel asked, moving her eyes away from Quinn and over to Santana.

"_She's_ here," she said, her voice dripping with hatred.

"So? I thought you guys used to be friends. From what Rachel remembered, Santana and Quinn had always been good friends—they were both Cheerios, the both joined Glee club together.

"_Used to_ being the key words. I hate that bitch."

"Why do you hate her?" Rachel asked.

"You're not going to write about this?" Santana asked.

"Off the record," Rachel promised, leaning closer to Santana, eager for her story.

"She tried to ruin your boyfriend's life."

Rachel gave Santana a confused look, "What are you talking about?" she asked.

"I know you're out of the loop about things down here, but after you left, Puck was a mess. He was drinking all the time, not showing up for school—he even stopped talking to all his friends. People were worried about him, especially Finn. I mean, those two had been best friends since before they could talk."

"How does Quinn fit into this?" Rachel asked.

Santana shushed her. "I'm getting to that. I just need you to understand what state Puck was in when you left him without even a goodbye."

Rachel got the feeling that had nothing to do with the story and Santana just wanted to make her feel like shit.

"So Finn, trying to make him feel better, has this big party and makes Puck come. Long story short, Puck got wasted and ended up hooking up with Quinn while she was still dating Finn. Then, the bitch claims Puck raped her and gets his ass thrown in jail."

"He raped her?" Rachel whispered.

Santana shook her head. "Of course not. She came onto him because she was mad about something Finn did, they sleep together, then she claims she never wanted it so Finn wouldn't break up with her. "

"What happened next?" Rachel asked.

"She ended up dropping the charges, but everyone still thought he did it. He was so depressed, I couldn't even help him. He ended up getting drunk and trying to kill himself by crashing his car. He ended up hitting another car and seriously hurting the other driver."

Rachel covered her mouth, knowing this was all her fault somehow.

"The guy was a judge, actually. But he felt bad for Puck, so he ended up helping him get his life together. Paid for him to finish school and helped him get into the sheriff's department. He's the one who helped Puck campaign and get elected as sheriff."

"How did he get elected if everyone thought he raped Quinn Fabray?" Rachel asked.

"The judge? That was Quinn's dad. He knew Puck never raped her, and he felt so bad after everything else that had happened that he made it his goal in life to turn Puck's life around. And look at him now—everyone loves him and he's great at his job."

Rachel looked down at the table, feeling terrible. This was all her fault. If she'd never left, none of that would have happened to Noah. They'd probably be married by now, but instead, he'd almost killed himself and someone else.

Rachel stood up. "I have to go."

"But Finn—"

"Tell him to call me tomorrow," Rachel interrupted. "I have something to do."

Santana smirked, her drink in her hand. "Tell Puck I say hi."

Rachel waved, walking out of the bar quickly, not even noticing Quinn and Sam staring after her. She walked to the bus stop, taking it to the closest stop to Noah's apartment.

She walked the rest of the way to his building, using the code and the key to get into his apartment.

He was already there when she opened the door, pulling off his shirt. He must have just gotten back.

"Rachel?" he asked, turning to face her.

Rachel jumped into his arms, kissing him full on the lips. Puck seemed surprised at first, though he kissed her back, wrapping his arms around her body.

Rachel pulled back after a moment, hugging him tightly. "I'm so sorry," she whispered.

"Sorry for what?" he asked, looking down at her.

"For everything. For leaving, for never calling, for lying."

Puck smiled a little. "I know you left without a word, but I don't think you've ever lied to me. Except for that time you said you liked football," he teased.

Rachel shook her head. "No, I lied to you, and you're going to hate me when I tell you the truth," she murmured.

Puck looked concerned, taking a seat on the edge of his bed, pulling Rachel onto his lap. "What is it, Rachel? You can tell me. I promise I won't get mad," he said, his arms around her waist.

"It's about me leaving…why I left," she whispered.


	6. Chapter 6

Puck helped Rachel off his lap and placed her on the bed beside him. "Are you sure about this?" he asked. He thought it would have taken her months to tell him the truth, not days. In fact, he'd expected her to never tell him why she left or why she was back.

Rachel nodded her head slowly. "Yes, I am," she whispered, not meeting his eyes. Her hands were clasped in her lap. She was shaking on the inside, terrified about how he would react when she told him everything.

She knew he'd yell—Noah tended to raise his voice when he was mad. She knew he wouldn't hit her—he's always said he would never do that to a woman.

"_I'll never hurt you, Rachel," _he would always tell her when they were cuddled in his bed at night. _"I'm not my father—I'll never hit you, no matter how mad I am. I'd leave before I ever hit you."_

Rachel still believed that. She prayed it was still true.

"I was pregnant when I left seven years ago," she said quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. "I found out and told my dads. They sent me to live with my aunt a week later—they never wanted anyone knowing I was pregnant and still in high school."

Puck's face was shocked, but there was a sense of joy on his face as well. "You had a baby?" he asked, taking her hand in his. "We had a baby?"

Rachel nodded her head, knowing what was coming next. "Yes, we did. It was a girl—I named her Caroline."

Puck smiled at the name. "From _Sweet Caroline_?" he asked.

"Mhmm," she responded. "It made sense. She was the sweetest little girl ever—so much like you. She looked like you too. It was like I had a little piece of you with me everywhere I went."

"Why didn't you tell me about her before?" he asked.

"I wanted to," Rachel admitted. "I wanted to call you every day and tell you about her. I thought about sending you a holiday card one year with a picture of us, but I thought you'd be mad," she whispered.

"Why would I be mad at you? I would have been ecstatic to see a picture of you with our child. Where is she now? Why didn't you bring her with you?" he asked.

"When I was still in Philadelphia, I started seeing this guy—Aiden. He was nice, and Caroline seemed to like him. I really didn't date much after I left here—it was too hard to do when I had a daughter to take care of. But Aiden was great with her. He'd even babysit her if I had to work late."

"Sounds like a great guy," Puck muttered in a dark voice.

"Would you stop that? I didn't love him. We weren't even together that long," she promised. That seemed to delight Puck. "Anyways, he invited Caroline and I to a picnic to meet his parents. It was out of the city in Jersey, so we were going to drive and meet him there."

"You were going to go to Jersey for this guy?"

"Hey, it was free food and free drinks—why would I turn that down?" she asked, though she didn't laugh. Just thinking about Caroline still made her heart ache.

"Fair enough." Puck rubbed her back, holding her close. Rachel knew that would stop in a matter of moments. Once he found out Caroline had died, he was going to hate her.

"We were getting close when my car got hit by a pickup truck. I never even saw they guy coming. He forced us off the road and into a grassy area where our car flipped over. I must have passed out, because I woke up in a hospital bed with all sorts of tubes attached to me. I was alive and all alone in that room. I had no idea what happened to Caroline."

"And what did happen to her?" Puck asked, holding onto Rachel tightly .

"She died. The glass from the window breaking pierced her heart which killed her. The doctor told me she didn't suffer much and that she died quickly. I had a small funeral for her. It was awful—no mother should ever have to bury her child."

Rachel felt Puck's grip on her loosen before he was standing up and walking away from her.

"So she's dead," he said, his voice flat. "My daughter is dead because you can't drive."

Rachel was a bit taken aback. For months, she'd blamed herself for what happened. If only she'd been a better driver, if only she'd been driving slower, if only she'd never agreed to go to the picnic…the list went on. Her therapist had drilled it into her head that Caroline's death was not her fault. Having Puck say that it was was like a slap in the face to her.

"Someone hit us, Noah," she murmured quietly. "I can't control how other people drive."

"No, but you can control how _you_ drive," he said, his voice rising. "And the fact is, you let my daughter die because of your shitty driving!" He turned around to face her.

Rachel was floored by the way he was looking at her. She'd never seen so much hate in his eyes. If she didn't know him better, she would have thought he was going to kill her.

"You think I let this happen on purpose, that I wanted her to die? I did my best to control that car, Noah! I couldn't stop it from flipping—I'm only human!"

He crossed his arms over his chest, ignoring every word she said. "You deny me my child, my _only_ child, for seven years, then let her die before ever letting me meet her. What kind of person does that, Rachel?"

"I wanted to tell you, Noah," Rachel said, starting to cry. "I wanted to tell you every day, but I was afraid. I was afraid you wouldn't like her and would leave her disappointed."

"What kind of person do you think I am?" he shouted. "I'm not my father, Rachel! I would never abandon my kid like that!"

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I'm so sorry, Noah. I should have told you sooner and let you two meet."

"Well, thanks to you, I'll never get to meet her," he snapped, reaching down and picking up his shirt. He pulled his back on before turning to Rachel. "Get out."

"What?" she asked, trembling where she stood.

"You heard me, get the _fuck_ out of my apartment. I can't even stand to look at you right now."

Noah threw the front door open and Rachel hurried over, looking up at him. "I'll call you tomorrow," she murmured, wiping the tears from her eyes.

"Don't bother. I never want to hear from you again. You should just leave town, Rachel. No one wants you here. You're just a dirty, lying reporter who's trying to make a name for herself off some girl's murder. What kind of person does that?"

"I did that for you!" she sobbed. "I did what you asked me to!"

Puck shook his head. "You keep telling yourself that." With a shove, he pushed Rachel out the door, slamming it in her face.

Rachel stood there, stunned. Quietly, she reached into her purse, pulling out the key to his apartment. She slid it under the door before running to the stairs, sobbing.

xxxxx

"Berry, calm down. Tell me again what happened?"

As soon as she had arrived home, Rachel had run up to her room in a fit of tears. Not knowing what else to do, she'd called Santana. She was the only person she felt like she could talk to about this.

"He said he never wanted to hear from me again and then he _pushed _me. Santana, he actually _pushed_ me out his door!"

"I'm sure he didn't actually push you" Santana tried.

"He did! I fell on the ground, he pushed me so hard! Noah always swore he would never hurt a woman, that he wasn't like his father, but he pushed me tonight." She stopped talking as a fresh round of tears started. "I don't know what to do. I have to make this right."

"Hon, I don't know if you can. From what you were saying, he sounds pretty upset. Maybe you should let him stew for a few days before you try talking to him again. You know, let him calm down a little so he doesn't slap you or something."

"Do you think he would actually slap me?" Rachel asked, staring up at the ceiling.

"How the fuck should I know?"

"I thought you two were friends."

"We bonded over the mutual feelings of not being with the one we loved and decided that fucking each other was better than being alone. That stopped when Brits finally took off her top and let me stick my tongue in her—"

"Okay, I get it," Rachel interrupted, not wanting to hear the details of Santana and Brittany's relationship. "But you know him well enough—would he actually hit me?"

"I've seen him hurt a lot of people for pissing him off—I mean, he wailed on Karofsky for knocking you into a locker junior year. Got himself suspended and everything."

"I remember," Rachel murmured.

"You just have to give him time to calm himself down, Yentl. Let him be alone for a few days. Work on your story about Brit and talk to Man-boobs tomorrow. He's got a lot on Brit, and he seemed eager to talk to you."

"You mean Finn?" Rachel asked, not sure if Santana's nickname was actually referring to him.

"No, the Dali Lama. Of course I meant Hudson. He'll be over your house around eleven, so be ready. I don't do this kind of shit for people, so don't make me regret doing this, okay?"

"I'll be ready for him, I promise. I'll stop by your apartment after."

"Don't bother—I'm working until close tomorrow. Work on your article once he leaves. How about you meet me at the Lima Bean Saturday morning and show me what you have so far? I'll tell you if you're giving Brit a good voice or royally fucking up."

Rachel smiled a little. "That sounds perfect. Ten in the morning sound good?"

"Perfect, I'll see you then. Look, I got to get to bed so I can get up early enough to get rid of this hangover before work. Ta, darling."

Santana's voice was replaced by a dial tone as she hung up. Rachel closed her phone, placing it on her bedside table. She glanced at it briefly—no messages. Not that she expected any. She just wished there was one. She was really missing Noah right now.

Rachel kicked her shoes off and changed into a pair of sweatpants and a tank top, crawling into bed. She flipped the lights off, crying herself to sleep.

xxxxx

The next morning, Rachel woke up, yawning. She hadn't gotten much sleep during the night because her mind was so busy replaying everything that happened between Puck and herself.

She climbed out of bed, walking straight to the bathroom to shower. Finn was going to be here soon, and she had promised Santana she would make a good impression.

Her mind kept drifting to Noah, no matter how much she tried to stop thinking about him. She wanted to make things up to him more than anything else, but she knew he'd slam the door in her face again as soon as he saw her.

She took a quick shower, stepping out and wrapping a towel around herself. The house was empty except for her, her dads away for a long weekend in Mexico. Rachel had assumed they'd want to spend time with their only child, but apparently she wasn't the perfect good girl like she used to be. They seemed to want to spend as much time away from her as possible.

She dried her hair and put on a bit of makeup before changing into a short sleeved blouse and high waisted skirt. She finished the look with a pair of black pumps.

Rachel grabbed her tape recorder and headed downstairs, placing it in the living room before heading into the kitchen. She made a pot of coffee for herself and Finn.

A knock at the door pulled her away from the kitchen. Rachel opened it and smiled as she saw Finn Hudson standing there. He didn't look much different than high school, though he had put on a few pounds.

"Finn," she greeted, ushering him inside. "Thanks so much for doing this. You don't know how much I appreciate this."

"It's not for you," he answered, walking over to the couch and taking a seat. "It's for Brittany."

"Of course," Rachel said. "That's why I'm doing this too. I want people to be able to hear Brittany so she doesn't disappear like every other murdered girl in this country."

He seemed to ignore what she said. Rachel was under the impression that Santana had forced him here, otherwise he would have never bothered showing up in the first place.

"Coffee?" she asked. Finn nodded. Rachel headed into the kitchen, pouring two cups of coffee, bringing the mugs along with cream and sugar out to the living room.

Rachel added a bit of cream to hers while Finn poured in both cream and sugar in his. He sat back, staring at her. "So are you going to ask me questions or not?"

"Oh, yes," Rachel said, sitting forward quickly. Maybe a bit too quickly—she ended up spilling her coffee in her lap. "Shit," she cursed, jumping to her feet as the hot liquid burned her leg.

Finn looked at her for a moment before chuckling a little. "Oh, relax. You don't have to be on edge," he reassured. "I'm not going to bite your head off."

"You sure seemed like you were," she muttered, dabbing the skirt with a napkin."

"Last night I probably would have, but I'm much cooler about the whole thing now. Santana convinced me you were doing this for the right reasons, and I believe her for some reason. Though if I find an article trashing Brit, I may have a few strong words for you."

Rachel shook her head. "It won't happen, I promise. This is going to be the truth only." She clicked on her tape recorder. "So go ahead Finn. Tell me about Brittany."

xxxxx

It turned out that Finn was the _perfect_ person to interview. He'd kept in contact with Brittany long after they'd broken up. According to him, it wasn't because she'd cheated on him—they were both just in love with other people.

"Of course," he told her. "The girl I was in love with didn't want anything to do with me anymore, but at least Brittany got her happy ending from our break up."

"You're talking about Brian Williams?" Rachel asked, her hands folded in her lap.

Finn nodded his head. "Yeah, apparently Brittany had fallen in love with him after seeing him at the store every day. Lucky for her, he'd fallen for her too. I've never seen people so much in love."

"What about the rumors of abuse?" Rachel asked quietly.

Finn let out a sigh. "I mean, I can't say definitely that he was hitting her, but you knew something was going on. Things just didn't seem right. She'd be wearing a sweater in the middle of July so her arms were covered. One time, her arm was broken, and she said she got it from tripping over a book. I wanted to help, I really did, I just didn't know how."

"What about when you two were together, what was she like back then?"

"Oh, she was the greatest girl. A bit dim, but she was a joy to be around. She was always making me laugh, and she didn't mind doing things that I loved and she had no interest in. She was the best girlfriend I ever had."

"When did you two start dating?"

"Well, Quinn and I broke up a year after we left school—things weren't working out well and I needed a break from her. Brit and I started dating one year after that—we had run into each other at the grocery store and she started talking to me when she saw we had the same things in our cart. That was another thing about Brittany; she could start talking to anyone anywhere. She was incredibly trusting."

"Was that ever a problem?"

"Well, guys would hit on her when we were out but she never seemed to notice. I mean, she'd never go anywhere with them, but she was completely oblivious to them staring at her chest as they talked. It annoyed me more than it annoyed her, to be honest."

"What about her parents? I know they died a few years ago."

"They were never close, even when they were alive. Brit was kind of on her own most of the time. She was a great cook, actually. She would bake cookies for me all the time." He laughed quietly. "Probably why I gained all this weight," he joked.

"Did she have any enemies, anyone who would want to hurt her?"

"God no," he said. "Everyone loved Brit. She was the life of the party and always had something nice to say to everyone. I mean, Santana loved her, and she hates everyone. That should show you how much people liked her."

Rachel smiled at that and nodded her head. "You have a point there." Rachel clicked off the recorder. "I think that's all I need for now. If I need anything else, I'll just give you a call if that's alright."

Finn nodded his head. "Don't hesitate to call me up." He rose to his feet and headed for the door, Rachel following him. "Hey Rach?" he asked.

"Yeah?"

"Don't be too hard on yourself about the Puck thing. He loves you, even if he's not acting like it right now. He'll come around, I promise." Finn put a hand on her shoulder. "Maybe if you showed him a few pictures that could help," he suggested. "I just hate seeing him upset like this."

"I know, so do I," she said softly. "But I don't know how to get him to talk to me."

"He will, he just needs a few days." Finn pulled her in for a hug. "Remember, don't hesitate to call." He opened the door after that and was gone. Rachel turned cleaning up the mugs from the living room and brought them into the kitchen.

The pair of hands on her surprised her. She was grabbed roughly, pulled back from the kitchen. Rachel screamed, dropping the mugs on the ground where they shattered into hundreds of pieces.

Rachel tried to fight, but the attacker was too strong for her. She was pushed onto the ground, falling onto her leg.

Rachel looked up, seeing someone with a ski mask on his face looking down at her. His eyes were bright green, the brightest green she had ever seen in her life.

He dropped down to his knees and pinned her shoulders to the ground, practically lying on top of her.

"Help!" she screamed. "Someone please help me!"

She doubted anyone would hear her—most people were at work now. It was just her here alone.

His hands moved forward, circling her throat. He squeezed tightly, cutting off her air. Rachel gasped, but didn't take any air in.

She started struggling, trying to pull his hands away to no avail. She was panicking at this point—she wasn't ready to die. With a kick, she forced her shoe against his chest.

That seemed to do something. Her attacker pulled away, groaning in pain. His hands released themselves from her throat and Rachel started coughing, gasping for breath.

She didn't wait to see if he'd recover. She threw off her shoes and sprinted for the door, locking it and shutting it behind her.

She ran across her lawn and down the street, knocking on her neighbor's door. "Please!" she shouted. "Please help! Please let me in!" She was sobbing and her appearance was disheveled. She didn't care—she just didn't want the guy in her house to find her and kill her.

The door opened and Mr. Tyson, her ninth-grade English teacher, was standing there. "Rachel Berry?" he asked. Rachel ignored him, pushing her way into his house. "Hey, you can't be in here!" he shouted, following her.

"I'm sorry Mr. Tyson, but I have to use your phone." Picking it up, Rachel dialed 911.

"911 operator, what is your emergency?" came a pleasant voice.

Rachel was shaking all over at this point. "Please, I need help," she gasped. "Someone tried to kill me. He's locked in my house right now. Please, send someone. I don't want to die."


	7. Chapter 7

By the time Noah arrived at Rachel's house, she'd already been sent to the hospital. He walked in, glancing around at the disheveled living room. He walked into the kitchen, spotting the shattered coffee mugs on the tile.

"You want me to send the crime scene techs in?" one of his deputies asked.

Puck nodded his head. "Yeah, though I doubt they'll find much. Seems like the guy wasn't here too long. We'll have to talk to Rachel to find out what happened."

"Want me to take care of it so you can get back to the Pierce case?"

"No, I got it. You head back to the office and type up your report on the interview with the fiancée. I want it on my desk by the time I get back," Noah ordered.

He watched the deputy give him a fearful nod before quickly leaving the house, terrified of not having his work done by the time Noah returned to the office.

Of course, Noah had no intention of returning to the station today. He was going to sit with Rachel at the hospital until she woke up, and then stay with her until she was perfectly fine. Then, he'd fine the guy that did this to her and strangle him with his bare hands.

Noah left the investigation of Rachel's house in the hands of another deputy before walking out of the house, flipping his phone off in the process. He wasn't going to even pretend to be working while Rachel was stuck in the hospital.

Okay, he was still pissed about what she did. It was his _daughter_, after all. Though, he understood where she was coming from.

His dad had brutalized his mother every night when Puck was a kid, then walked out on her after Becca was born. Maybe she thought it was in his blood.

But she should have known better. He would have been an amazing father to Caroline. He'd have done anything to make her happy.

Maybe Rachel had thought he would have forced her to move back to Lima?

Well, he probably would have, if he was being honest with himself. He'd lived in Lima all his life. Hell, he was actually successful here. Why would he leave town with all he had going for him?

For Rachel and Caroline, he would have. He would have gone anywhere they wanted. Rachel had always been the most important person in his life when they were together in high school. Becca and him were close, but she was way younger. His mom…well, when she wasn't falling down drunk, she was yelling at him to use his fake ID and get her more booze. Rachel had been the one person he could tell anything to. And if he had known she was pregnant, he would have done anything to make it work.

People would have said that he'd screw things up, that he'd end up leaving her like his father left his mother. But he wouldn't. Puck would have been the best father to Caroline.

Now he'd never have a chance.

Puck pulled his car into the parking lot of Lima General Hospital, driving it into an empty spot before parking and turning the engine off. He climbed out, shutting the door and locking it.

Noah walked into the hospital, instantly being greeted by the girl at the front desk. "Are you here about the girl?" she asked, looking up from her computer. She wasn't more than eighteen—Noah just hoped she wasn't the nurse. How the hell was he supposed to know what girl she meant?

Regardless, he nodded his head. "Yes, Rachel Berry. I was told she was brought here by ambulance," he said, removing his sunglasses.

The girl smiled at Noah, batting her eyes. "She's on the second floor, Sheriff. Room 214," she said, leaning forward a bit.

"Thanks," he muttered, leaving her and heading for the elevator. The girl was visibly disappointed.

Noah headed up to the second floor, finding the room he needed. Rachel's nurse was standing outside the door, typing something on one of the computer carts.

"Nurse?" he asked, walking up to her slowly as not to startle her.

The nurse turned towards him, not even bothering to smile. "Sheriff," she greeted. Noah recognized her—Ella Cohen, Tina Cohen-Chang's step-sister. Puck may have dated her a few months ago on the insistence from his grandmother to date a Jewish girl. It didn't work out.

"So, is Rachel in there?" he asked, rubbing the back of his neck uncomfortably.

"Yes, but she's been sedated. She's not awake, and I don't think she'd want _you_ in there while she's dressed in a hospital gown."

"Ella—"

"Don't _Ella_ me," she snapped, slamming her hand down on the keyboard. "What, you get bored of screwing me over and leading me on so you decide to go back to Rachel and do the same thing?" she asked.

"What are you talking about?" he asked, holding up his hands to attempt to get her to stop her verbal attack on him.

"The scars, stupid. On her wrists. They don't look that old in my opinion. What did you do to that poor girl?"

"Nothing!" he said defensively. He was used to getting accused of doing things, but this time he was actually innocent. "Before she showed up in town, the last time I saw Rachel was seven years ago. Scars on her wrists is news to me. I'm here to see if she's okay and find out what happened."

"Well, she freaked out when the EMT tried bandage the cut on her forehead. We sedated her once she got here. Rape kit was negative. She's got a pretty nasty bruise on her neck and a cut on her head, but she'll live. The doctor's on the phone with her psychiatrist in Philadelphia to see what he thinks. She should be awake soon. Now leave me alone—I have other patients." She pushed the computer away while Noah walked into the room.

Rachel was sleeping in the bed, completely still. She had an IV in her hand and was hooked up to fluids. He winced when he saw her neck.

A deep, purple bruise had formed in the shape of two hands. He didn't want to think about what had caused that, but he kept picturing it in his mind. A helpless Rachel lying on the floor, gasping for air as someone sat on top of her, choking the life out of her.

Noah took a seat at her bedside, taking her small hand in his. He noticed the bandage on her head and frowned. He couldn't believe someone had tried to kill her. What had Rachel ever done to anyone? She was the sweetest girl in town.

Noah reached down, brushing the hair out of her face. She had a nasal oxygen mask hooked up to her as she slept.

Noah reached a hand up, wiping away a tear that had escaped from his eye. He'd never expected to see Rachel like this, looking so helpless. She'd always been so strong. Even when she was pushed around at school, she never acted like a victim.

He'd been the one to hold her back from pushing the guys right back.

"_Babe, don't. I'm not letting you get suspended or expelled because Karofsky's an asshole,"_ Noah would always say before shoving him into a locker as payback.

Yet, she must have been strong. That was the only reason she was lying here alive instead of in the woods dead.

Like Brittany.

It had to be the same guy. Two girls attacked in a week, both strangled? Maybe Rachel had been onto something and the guy wanted to stop her before she realized who he was?

Theories buzzed in Noah's mind about who had done this, but he couldn't think of anyone in town who was capable of something like this.

Rachel stirred before her eyes opened. She looked at her hand, then up at him. "Noah?" she whispered, her voice hoarse.

"Don't speak," he said softly, his thumb stroking the back of her hand. "You're in the hospital. Do you remember what happened?" he asked kindly, his brown eyes meeting hers.

"I was attacked," she whispered. "At my house. It was after Finn left. Someone came in and tried to kill my by strangling me."

Noah felt a surge of jealousy when she mentioned Finn had been over. _Why_ was he at her house? No, this wasn't the time. Rachel had almost died, and all he could think about was who had been in her bed.

"Could it have been Finn who attacked you?" he asked her.

"I don't think so," she said, her voice barely audible. "He was just at my house for an interview and he was very polite. I can't see him trying to strangle me."

"Did the attacker say anything? Did you see him?"

"No, he wore a mask. All I saw were his eyes—they were green. And he never said anything the whole time he was choking me," she added.

Rachel reached a hand up to her neck, her fingers gingerly running over the bruise. "Did I do something to cause this? Did I offend someone so much to make them want to kill me?" she asked.

Noah shook his head. "You could never do anything to make someone want to do this to you, Rachel. I think—I think we have a serial killer here. Someone who hates women."

"You think I escaped a serial killer?" she asked.

"Well, we'll have to wait and see—though hopefully we catch him before there're anymore bodies," she added. That was the last thing he wanted—more girls dying.

Rachel nodded her head before leaning it back against the bed.

"Is there anything else you want to tell me? Not about this attack?" he asked, flipping her hand over, running his fingers over the scar that stretched across her wrist.

"No, you pushed me out of your apartment. You don't get that story now."

"Rachel, you tried to kill yourself. The nurse said it wasn't that long ago, either. I can guess what caused it. What I don't understand is why, Rachel? Why would you do that?"

But Rachel shook her head. "No. You don't get to act like you care now. You pushed me. What's to stop you from hitting me next? Or killing me? How do I know it wasn't you who tried to kill me back there?" she asked.

"Because I have brown eyes."

Rachel made a sound. "Ever heard of colored contact lenses? You still haven't proved to me it wasn't you."

"Damn it, Rachel. You know me. You know what I'm capable and what I'm not capable of. I could never kill anyone. And I could never hurt you, I promise."

"Prove it."

Noah did the first thing he could think of—he leaned his head down and pressed his lips to hers. Rachel seemed to pause for a moment before she was kissing him back.

Noah's hand cupped her face, bringing her closer to him. Rachel brought the hand not connected to any tubing up, placing it on his cheek. Her eyes closed as she melted into Noah, her lips moving rhythmically with his.

Noah took a seat on the side of Rachel's bed, his lips never moving away from hers. He pushed Rachel back against her bed, never pulling away from the kiss.

There was a beeping and Rachel pulled away, looking up at the monitor next to her bed. "Guess my heart got a little excited," she mumbled, her cheeks red.

Noah chuckled, shaking his head. "Do you believe me now, though?" he asked. "Do you believe me that I would never hurt you?"

Rachel stayed silent for a minute, looking down in her lap. "Yes, I suppose I do. Are you sorry for pushing me?" she asked.

"What do you think? Of course I am. I let my anger get the best of me and I hurt the one person I truly love." There, he said it. All it took was a week for him to know he loved her.

"Love?" she asked.

"Well fuck, Rachel. Are you going to draw this out and make me talk about my feelings? Of course I love you, you beautiful, sensitive girl. I never stopped loving you."

Rachel smiled a little, looking down for a moment. "I still love you too. I never got over you. I guess that's why I never really dated anyone."

"You're telling me you haven't had sex in seven years?" he asked, giving her a look of disbelief.

"I said date, Noah. A girl has to eat, after all. And don't you go getting mad about that. From what I've heard, you weren't so innocent after I left."

Puck rolled his eyes. "People in this town have nothing better to do than talk," he said, shaking his head. "None of them meant anything to me. Not like you did, at least." He placed his hand on her stomach and kissed her lightly. "I guess this is the part where I ask you to go steady or some shit like that."

"Are you sure? I think it would be quite scandalous for the sheriff to be seen taking out the out-of-town reporter," she teased.

"Ah, fuck 'em. I haven't cared what people in this town thought about me since forever. I care about what you think, that's all."

"Well, I happen to think you're quite wonderful and skilled with those fingers and that tongue of yours," she murmured, a blush forming.

"What is this? Is Rachel Berry talking dirty to me?" he teased, tickling her slightly.

"Noah, stop. I'm in the hospital!" she laughed, trying to push his hands away.

"Aw, you're no fun," he complained, lying on the bed next to her, sharing her pillow. "I'm sheriff and I'm not even allowed to tickle someone," he complained.

The door to Rachel's room flew open and a different nurse walked in, a phone in her hand. "Sheriff, it's for you. The caller said it was urgent."

Noah sighed, sitting up and taking the phone from the nurse. He nodded his head and said a few words as his expression changed from a joking one to very serious. He hung up without a word before standing up.

"Noah?" Rachel asked. "Where are you going?"

"Sorry Rach, something came up. I have to go."

"What is it?" she asked, biting her lip.

"Santana didn't show up for work. Her boss sent someone to her apartment, and…" He shook his head, his eyes downcast.

"What, Noah? What happened?"

"Her door was wide open, the lock busted open. There were clumps of her hair on the ground…and a pool of blood."


	8. Chapter 8

Noah left Rachel at the hospital with the promise that he would see her later. He left his key with her, telling her to head to his apartment if she was discharged before he managed to make it back to her.

He climbed into his car, turning the engine on before speeding away from the hospital.

Not again. He couldn't deal with this. One girl was dead, one attacked, and now one missing. The only thing he had for a suspect was someone with green eyes—how the hell did that help him? There had to be hundreds of people in town with green eyes.

He flipped his phone open and powered it back on, being greeted to multiple texts and voice mails. Of course, the one time he wanted to get away from everything and this happened.

He was hoping Santana had just left town, that she had stubbed her toe and that was where the blood was from.

In the pit of his stomach he knew that wasn't true. Santana would never leave just like that, not with Brittany barely being dead. And the hair…

All Puck wanted to do right now was hold Rachel and protect her from the evil that was in this town right now. But he could—he had a job to do. Plus, he owed it to Brittany to find whatever sick bastard had done this to her.

Puck pulled his car into the parking lot of Santana's apartment building. He'd been here plenty of times over the past few years. He and Santana had a mutual understanding that they'd use sex to try and forget about the people they really loved. It had never worked, but it was better than being lonely.

Puck walked up the stairs to her apartment, pushing open the door.

He sensed things weren't right as soon as he walked through the door. The pictures that normally lined Santana's hallway were knocked to the floor, the glass broken. There was a bloody handprint on the wall, as well as a chunk of the wall lying on the floor.

She'd put up a hell of a fight.

The blood on the ground was smeared instead of in a neat puddle. Noah walked over to it, reaching down and picking up a small piece of wood on the floor.

"What is that?" one of the deputies asked, walking over to him.

"Looks like the heel from a stiletto. She must have been wearing these when he broke in," Noah said, looking over at the front door. The lock was broken—someone had forced their way into her apartment.

"Sheriff, are you sure this is the same guy?" the deputy asked. "It just doesn't look the same as the Pierce murder. I mean, she was killed at the store where she worked, and Lopez was killed—"

"We don't know that she's dead yet," Noah interrupted. He had to keep up hope that she was still alive, as unlikely as it was. "For now, she's still just missing."

The deputy nodded his head. "Right, missing. Well, this scene there looks like there was more of a fight, and there's more blood, like she was stabbed instead of just cut up like Pierce."

"And what about the hair? That was at both crimes. It's the same guy, Thomas. Someone in town is killing these girls and cutting off their hair. I just don't know why." Noah let out a sigh before turning back to the deputy. "Is there a search party out?"

He nodded his head. "Yes, sir. A few guys are out searching the forest near where the other body was discovered. We're thinking maybe he'll dump her in the same place as the first girl."

"I doubt it. He knows we'll look there. He's going to want to put her someplace else, but it'll be similar," Noah predicted. "He's going to throw her away like trash."

xxxxx

Noah returned home late that night, exhausted. He'd spent all day at Santana's apartment while the search party had no clue as to where she was. When he called the hospital, they told him Rachel had been discharged home and had left late that afternoon.

Noah's guess was that she had decided to leave. Rachel never had liked hospitals.

He pushed the key into his door, unlocking it and walked inside his apartment. Rachel was lying in his bed, fast asleep.

He smiled at that, kicking his shoes off and stripping down to his boxers. He was beat, both physically and emotionally. One of his oldest friends was presumed dead, and he was in charge of finding her body. Talk about a screwed-up job.

Noah climbed into bed next to Rachel, kissing her bare shoulder lightly. She had changed into a tank top and a pair of his boxers, snuggled in his blankets. She was even using the pillow he slept on as opposed to the three other ones that were on his bed for decoration.

Rachel stirred slightly, though stayed asleep. Noah wrapped both his arms around her middle, pulling her small body close to his.

Just having her here like this, it was comforting. Noah had had the worst day of his life, and just having Rachel here waiting for him like this instantly made it a bit better.

He could see his life being like this every day. And if he was being honest, he loved that idea.

Of course, there was no way it would ever happen. Rachel would vanish back to Philadelphia once she was feeling better, leaving Noah heartbroken once again.

The thought of her leaving made Noah pull her even closer, nuzzling his face against her neck.

"Ow, that hurts," Rachel murmured sleepily, twisting her neck a bit to get away from him. He laughed quietly, kissing her shoulder again.

"Sorry. I thought you were sleeping."

"I was until you pressed your face against the bruise on my neck," she muttered, not even bothering to open her eyes. "Did you find her?" she asked, her hands resting on top of his arms. "Santana, I mean," she added.

Noah shook his head. "No. No one knows where she is—no one's even seen her since yesterday. Her neighbors aren't talking—if anyone heard something, they haven't told us. We just got a bunch of doors slammed in our faces as soon as we asked a question."

"So basically, she's dead like Brittany," Rachel said, her voice flat.

"Looks that way. There was blood all over her apartment—it looked like she fought back against whoever attacked her."

"And you think it's the same guy who tried to kill me?" Rachel asked, opening her eyes and rolled onto her back, looking up at Noah in the dark apartment.

"I do," he said, looking down at her. Noah reached a hand over, brushing the hair out of Rachel's face before giving her a soft kiss. "Rachel, you don't need to be afraid. I won't let him get you. I'll protect you."

"I'd rather you find this guy and throw his ass in jail."

"Yeah, but I'm never going to find this guy. We don't know who he is or anything about him except for green eyes. He could be anyone in town," he sighed.

Rachel smiled up at him, cupping his cheek with her hand. "I believe in you, Noah. You're the best person for this job. I know you'll find him and arrest him before someone else dies." She pulled his face down for a kiss. "You're a smart person, despite what people think."

Puck smiled at her, his body hovering over hers. "You seem to know just what to say to make me stop thinking that I'm a loser," he said quietly, his nose pressed against hers.

"I never said you weren't a loser," she teased, her fingers trailing over his shoulders. Noah allowed himself to lie on top of her, his hands slowly exploring her body as his eyes never left her face.

"Nice to know even you think I'm a loser," he said sarcastically.

"Oh stop. You know I'm kidding," she promised, kissing him once. Noah allowed one hand to slip under her tank top, running up her side and to her back but never to her front. He wasn't going o try anything tonight—she had almost died, after all.

Rachel knew whatever she had with Noah was complicating things. How was she supposed to leave when things ended if she was in love with him?

Noah reached a hand up to her neck and Rachel let out an audible gasp. All she could think about was the pair of hands around her throat earlier.

Instead of strangling her like her attacker had, Noah gingerly traced the bruise, being careful not to hurt her. He placed on kiss on the side of her neck before rolling off her, placing his hands behind his head.

"Wrap your arms back around me?" she asked quietly, looking over at him. "I feel safe when you're close to me like that."

Noah obliged, pulling her body close to his. Rachel turned in his arms so she was facing him. She looked up at his face in the dark before resting her forehead against his chest. "I don't want to go back there tomorrow," she whispered, referring to her house. What if her attacker came back while she was alone and finished the job?

"Rachel, you don't have to," Noah said, his left hand rubbing her back in a comforting manner. "You can stay here with me as long as you want. I'll protect you here," he said.

Rachel nuzzled her head against his chest, letting out a sigh. "You're the best," she murmured, reaching down and pulling the covers more over them.

Noah smiled, kissing the top of her head. "I'll never let anything happen to you, Rachel. Your safe with me, I promise."

And, despite everything that had happened that day, Rachel believed him. She knew he'd never let her die. He'd sacrifice himself before he ever let her get hurt.

Rachel wrapped her arms around his middle, falling asleep in his arms.

xxxxx

Santana opened her eyes, looking around to attempt to get her bearings. The last thing she clearly remembered was talking to Rachel on the phone before deciding she should go to bed.

She tried to get up but was unable to. She looked down at herself and saw she was tied to a chair, her arms behind her.

Her head was killing her, and she felt like she was going to pass out. Her hand felt like it was on fire and her vision was blurry.

She was in some kind of room, but she had no idea where she was. For all she knew, she could be all the way in California. She must have had too much to drink and blacked out.

She tried to speak but found her voice hoarse and throat dry. What the hell had happened?

Santana looked down at herself, seeing cuts running down her right leg. They seemed to make some sort of pattern, but she was so out of it that she couldn't tell what it was.

Santana wracked her brain, trying to remember what had happened and how she had gotten like this. She'd called Rachel to tell her Hudson would be over in the morning and to not make a bad impression. Then she'd decided to go to bed.

And then someone had hit her! She remembered feeling something heavy hit her head, knocking her down. Her head was still throbbing from it. She turned around to see someone standing above her a mask on his face (at least she thought it was a he).

When he placed his hands on her neck, she knew that was probably the last thing Brit saw before she died. Santana was not going down like that—she was a Lopez from Lima Heights Adjacent, damnit!

She remembered kicking her attacker hard—sp hard the heel from her shoe broke and wound up embedded in his leg.

She remembered hearing him howl in pain—that was when she definitely knew it was a man attacking her. His voice was deep, too deep to be a girl's voice.

Santana had jumped to her feet while he tried to pull the piece of her shoe out of his leg, heading for the door. It was a bit hard to run in one heel and one broken shoe, so she tried kicking them off as she moved.

"Bitch!" She remembered hearing that called at her, but she never bothered to turn and see how close he was to her. Instead, she felt herself being pushed into the wall, knocking all the pictures on the wall to the ground. The glass from one of the frames had even cut her hand, causing her to cry out in pain.

He'd tried to grab her again, but she used all her strength to push him off her. He fell on the ground in front of the door, so Santana pushed off the wall and headed for her phone, planning to call the police.

She was tackled to the ground before she reached it. After that, his hands were on her neck again. She scratched, pushed, hit—anything to get him off her. After that, everything went dark until she woke up here.

Obviously, he hadn't killed her. She was still alive, after all. What she didn't understand was _why_ he hadn't killed her. Why did he go to all that trouble to attack her to just bring her here? It didn't make any sense.

"What the fuck did you bring her here for?" Santana heard a high-pitched voice yell. "You were supposed to kill her and then dump her body! People are out looking for her!"

"Look, I panicked. Her neighbor started knocking on the door and threatened to call the cops if she didn't keep the noise down. I had to get out of there. I just didn't have time to kill her like you wanted."

"Well, if they find her here, you're going down for this, not me. I wasn't anywhere near her apartment."

"Yeah, well I was at work the night Brittany died. That was all you."

"And you're the one who tried to kill Rachel earlier. I bet the sheriff would _love_ to hear who did that. I bet he'd kill you himself, not even bother waiting for a trial to give you the death penalty."

"Look, she's here now. Why don't we finish this as fast as possible and dump the body? I'll clean the room myself, make sure there's no evidence she was ever here. That way she can't be traced back to us, just like Brittany can't."

Santana heard the girl sigh. "Fine. After all, she was the one I really wanted to kill myself. Masks on."

Two people emerged from behind a door, both dressed in black and wearing masks. Santana looked up at them, a defeated look on her face. "Do you really need the masks on? I'm going to die, shouldn't I at least get to see who killed me?"

The guy looked over at the girl, who shrugged her shoulders. They both pulled off their masks as the girl pulled a knife from her belt.

Santana nodded her head. "I should have known. Who else would have thought to cut the hair off and take Britt's engagement ring?"

"Your hair too," she said to Santana. "That was my one instruction. At least you seem to be able to follow that much," she snapped at the guy before raising the knife.

The ropes binding Santana were cut and she fell onto the floor. She made no effort to move, having no energy left after all the blood she lost.

"Do you like my message for the world?" the girl sneered, kicking Santana's leg. Santana looked down, seeing the word 'Lesbian' carved into her leg.

"Suits me," she murmured as both people hovered over her, knives in their hands.

It seemed to be a frenzy. Santana saw the first few times the knife came down and felt it disappear into her chest, but after that, things went all fuzzy.

She raised her hand to try and stop the attack, but it was to no avail. Her hand was stabbed, then her arm, then her face. Luckily, she was already dead by that point.

Her attackers didn't realize she was dead until they'd stabbed her 52 times already. At that point, Santana was barely recognizable. The girl had done most of the work on her face.

"I'm feeling tired," the girl said. "I'm going to go shower before I go to bed. You take care of everything," she said before turning her back to him and heading out of the room, dropping the bloody knife on the ground as she left.

xxxxx

When Noah woke up the next morning, Rachel was still curled in his arms, her head resting on his chest. Her breathing was slow and peaceful. She looked like an angel sleeping.

Noah didn't want to wake her, so he just relaxed back on the bed, letting her sleep. He reached a hand over, rubbing her back gently. The dark purple bruise from the day before still circled her neck. Noah felt his stomach flip when he remembered how close he came to losing her. Not again, he'd never let her get away from him now. Hell, he'd move to Philadelphia if that's what it took to keep her.

Rachel let out a small sigh as she shifted in bed, rolling onto her back as she opened her eyes. She turned her head to the side, looking at Noah.

Rachel smiled at him sleepily before letting out a yawn. "Morning," she murmured, turning onto her stomach as she scooted close to him.

Noah leaned over to her, kissing her lightly. "Good morning," he said, bending down to kiss her again. Rachel kissed him back lightly before pulling away and resting her forehead against his shoulder. "Sleep well?" he asked.

"Surprisingly yes," she said. "You know, especially since I almost died yesterday."

Noah put an arm around her, pulling her on top of him.

Rachel laughed looking down at him, her hair falling into her face. "Why Sheriff Puckerman, are you attempting to seduce me?" she teased, sitting on top of his chest.

"That depends—are you seducible?" he asked, looking up at her.

Rachel shook her head.

"Well then, I suppose I can settle for seeing a beautiful girl sitting in my bed in the morning. That's the best way to wake up, after all," he laughed, sitting up and throwing his arms around her, tackling her to the bed.

"Noah, stop!" Rachel laughed, pushing playfully against his chest as he started kissing her neck, tickling her stomach at the same time. "Noah!" she squealed. "Stop, I'm ticklish!" she managed in between giggles.

"I know," he grinned, continuing to tickle her. Noah's cell phone interrupted them. He sighed, stopping his assault and sitting up. "God damn, it's not even eight. Whoever's calling better have a good reason," he muttered, picking up his phone. "This is Sheriff Puckerman," he answered.

Rachel crawled over on her knees, kneeling behind him with her arms wrapped around his neck. She laid her head on his shoulder as she listened to one side of the conversation. Based on his response, it wasn't good.

Noah hung up the phone, turning his head to give Rachel a quick kiss. "I have to go," he sighed.

"Where are you going?" she asked, letting him go as she laid back down in his bed, pulling the covers over her body.

"Work," he sighed, grabbing a pair of pants and a shirt out of the closet. He pulled them on, grabbing his jacket off the floor before taking a seat on the edge of the bed, pulling his shoes on. He looked over at Rachel. "We just got a call. Someone found Santana's body."


	9. Chapter 9

Kurt Hummel hadn't expected to find a body on his early morning jog.

Whenever he went for a jog around town, he never saw anything more than a pair of stray cats fighting over a scrap of food. That's why he went jogging early—you never ran into anyone.

He would always start at his house—the one he still shared with his dad and step-mother—then run into town, eventually ending at the Lima Bean for his first cup of coffee.

Of course, that morning something stopped him from walking into the coffee shop. It was a hand—well, he thought it was. He couldn't really tell because it had so many holes in it.

Of course Kurt knew Santana was missing—the entire town knew. People were assuming she was dead after Brittany wound up dead in the woods.

Kurt thought that it was a real shame Santana had vanished and was probably dead—when she wasn't being a total bitch, she was actually an okay person.

But the hand, that was what distracted Kurt from heading inside and getting his much-needed coffee.

He walked over to it before turning away and losing the little bit of food in his stomach. It was Santana. Or at least, he thought it was. She didn't look like the Santana he knew.

Hell, the only reason he figured it was her was because she was the only girl in town who was missing. Otherwise, there was no way to tell it was her. Not with what had been done to her face.

She'd been tossed in an alleyway like she was garbage, like she was a piece of trash that no one gave a fuck about.

That wasn't true.

Kurt cared about her. He was the first and only person she came out to in high school. He was the only person who batted for the same team that she knew, so one day after school, she told him that she felt for Brit what he felt for Finn.

Yeah, she was the one person who had figured out he'd like to take Finn Hudson into the janitor's closet and fuck him until he decided he was gay.

Of course, that had never happened, but Santana had decided that made him worthy of learning her biggest secret.

He promised never to say a word, and he hadn't. Not even to his dad.

Of course, it seemed that someone else knew about her secret. Santana's leg was displayed prominently, the word 'Lesbian' permanently etched onto her dead skin. The one thing about herself she wanted to keep secret was going to be the only thing the town talked about for weeks.

They'd probably even think that's why she was killed.

After staring at her body for a good five minutes, trying to close his eyes and wish it was all a dream, Kurt pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and called Noah Puckerman.

He was the sheriff, after all.

xxxxx

Rachel remained in Puck's bed long after he left to go clean up the body. He'd left her with strict orders not to leave his apartment and not to let anyone in.

She supposed with a psycho killer murdering women in town, she was okay with him being a bit overprotective.

Her phone rang right as she was deciding to get out of bed and shower. Rachel reached over, pulling it off Noah's nightstand and flipped it open.

"Yes?" she asked into the phone, leaning back so she was propped up by his pillows.

"You said you'd call if things got too much!" an angry voice yelled into the phone.

She shook her head, sighing a bit. "James, it's another body. I don't think that's too—"

"Cut the shit, Rachel. Why didn't you call me after that madman broke into your house and tried to kill you? I could have you back in Philadelphia and out of danger by now!" He was worried, and whenever he was worried, James tended to yell.

"I didn't tell you because I knew you would do exactly what you're doing right now. I don't know how you found out in the first place, but—"

"Your doctor called me. I'm listed as your contact person in case of whatever. But back to the point, _why didn't you call me and tell me some psychopath tried to choke the life out of you?_"

"Because he didn't choke the life out of me. I got away and called the cops, end of story. You're freaking out over nothing, really. Besides, Noah's here to protect—"

"You mean your baby daddy," he said, interrupting her once again.

"Are you going to let me get a word in or are you just going to keep yelling and talking over me? Yes, Noah my high school boyfriend and Caroline's father. He's the sheriff and he's not going to let anything happen to me. He loves me, he'll do anything to keep me safe. You should be more worried about him doing something stupid and getting himself killed."

"I don't care about him, I care about you, Rachel. You've been the closest thing I have to a kid after Tommy, and I'd be devastated if something happened to you too, especially after I let you stay there and chase after a killer."

"I'm not chasing after a killer," she said defensively. "I'm researching his victims. I'm not out to make a murderer famous, I promise. You have to let me stay, James. I can do this. I'll tell you when I'm in too deep."

"Rachel, you're going to end up dead if I let you stay!"

"Look, I'll get a gun if you want. I'll do anything. Just, please let me stay this story. I can do it, I know I can."

Rachel heard James sigh on the other end. "Tell that sheriff boyfriend of yours that if you end up dead, I'll kill him personally. And have him get you something to protect yourself with—a gun's a great idea. And I want you calling at least once a day."

"I promise I will. Thank you, James. You won't regret this."

She thought she heard him mumble something that sounded like 'famous last words', but the line went dead before she could ask him to repeat it.

Rachel clicked her phone off, placing it on the bedside table again. She climbed out of bed, throwing her hair up and wrapping a rubber band around it.

Rachel walked barefoot around Noah's apartment, checking the place out. When she had been here before, she hadn't been here long enough to look around. And when she had gotten here last night, she had climbed right into bed and fell asleep.

Now, Rachel was curious about what kind of stuff was here. His apartment was strangely bare, like he'd gotten rid of a bunch of stuff. Maybe she was just being paranoid.

Rachel walked over to his desk, browsing the papers on top of it. A few bills, a copy of his lease, his sister's report card—nothing all that interesting.

Rachel walked into the kitchen, opening the fridge. Lots of beer and not much else. She couldn't say she was all that surprised. He was a 25-year-old guy, after all.

Rachel was searching through his cabinets for something to eat when the door to his apartment flew open. A young girl with dark brown hair and even darker brown eyes walked in, an overnight bag slung over her shoulder.

"Ma decided to go through the entire liquor cabinet so I'm cashing in my ticket to move in for the week," she said as she shut the door, looking around. "No, where are you?" she called.

Rachel stepped out from behind the cabinet, looking at Noah's sister, Becca. She'd grown up a lot from the last time Rachel saw her. When Rachel had left, Becca had been ten, going on eleven. Now she was almost eighteen.

"Who're you?" she asked, dropping her bag on the floor, her eyes narrowed a bit. Ah, yes. Becca had always been a bit jealous of Rachel stealing all her brother's time.

"Bec, it's Rachel," she said, wishing she was wearing more than just a tank top and a pair of boxers.

"Rachel who?" she asked, pulling her coat off and dropping it on the floor.

"Rachel Berry. Don't you remember me?" she asked, frowning a little.

"Oh, of course I remember _you_," Becca said, recognition dawning on her face. "You're the bitch that tore out my brother's heart and stomped it into the ground," she said, sitting on the counter as she stared down at Rachel, her arms crossed over her chest. "So what the fuck are you doing in his apartment half naked?"

xxxxx

Noah let out a sigh as his deputy lost his breakfast into the nearest trashcan. "If you're done contaminating the crime scene, why don't you head back to the apartment and see if you can find anything there. I'll handle this."

Noah walked closer to Santana's body, squatting beside her. He pulled a pair of gloves on, moving an uncut piece of hair out of her face. "San, what happened? What did you get yourself into?" he muttered, shaking his head.

It was just so much to deal with—Rachel almost dying, Santana being killed, and now finding her body like _this_. Brittany's death had been bad, but this was just awful.

Fuck, he couldn't even tell it was her. But he knew it was—the clothes (well, what was left of them) were what Santana was last seen in. That plus the lesbian thing on the leg pointed to Santana.

Noah just didn't understand how this had happened, or why. _Why_ Santana? Sure, she was a bitch to everyone she knew, but that didn't mean she needed to be killed.

He leaned over her body again, trying to count the wounds. He lost count after 15. The amount of overkill on her…the killer must have _hated_ her.

Puck reached a hand down, placing it on her neck. There was a bruise there, just like there was on Rachel and Brittany. However, he doubted she'd been strangled to death. His guess was she died from all the stab wounds.

Puck pulled his hand away, staring at her neck. Santana always wore a necklace with two interlocking circles. Brittany had given it to her a month before she died. It was a promise ring or something, he couldn't remember exactly. It was missing.

"Hey!" Noah called out, looking over at one of the crime scene techs. "Did any of you see a necklace on the victim?" he asked.

They all shook their head no, claiming they hadn't even touched the body yet.

Noah sighed, running a hand through his short hair. He _knew_ Santana never took that necklace off, so where the fuck was it?

He thought back to Brittany's body. She hadn't had her engagement ring. At the time, he'd thought she had gotten rid of it. But maybe that wasn't the case—maybe the killer had taken it as some sort of sick trophy.

He wasn't cut out for this. When he'd decided to run for sheriff, he never thought he'd be dealing with dead bodies turning up like this. Lima was a small, quiet town. People here didn't kill other people in town.

Noah signaled the CSI team and stepped out of the crime scene, letting them do their work. He headed off to the side, watching as they slowly worked with the body.

Noah let out a sigh, knowing this was going to be another long day. No one was there for Santana—her parents had disowned her and Brittany was dead. He supposed he'd be making arrangements for her when the exam of her body was finished.

Noah thought back to Rachel, hoping she was okay. He was leaving her alone all day after all. He doubted he was even going to make it home for lunch. As long as she stayed inside, she'd be fine. But, if there was one thing he knew about Rachel, it was that she didn't like being told what to do.

xxxxx

It took Becca five minutes to warm up to Rachel. She'd glared for a few seconds before deciding she was glad Rachel was back.

Of course, once Rachel told her she and her brother were basically back together at this point, Becca was more than overjoyed. She'd always liked Rachel. She'd never had a sister, so Rachel had always been the closest thing to it. She'd always dreamed of being a bridesmaid when Rachel married Noah.

But then she'd left town and Becca watched as Noah fell apart without her. She kept hoping Rachel would show back up and put Noah back together, but it never happened.

Well, not until now. Becca had been so busy with school that she hadn't even heard Rachel was back in town.

The two brunette girls were now lying in Noah's bed, the TV playing some soap opera. Neither one of them was really paying attention. Instead, they were catching up with each other.

"Please tell me you're not a fuck up like your brother and failing every class," Rachel pleaded. She never understood how Noah had ever graduated high school—her theory was he threatened a bunch of people.

"Nope. Honor roll every year. I'm actually going to be valedictorian!" she said excitedly. "And hopefully I'll be at Princeton in the fall. It's my top choice, I mean. I'm supposed to hear back next month."

"I'm sure you'll get in. You're top of your class, plus an awesome person. They're crazy if they don't accept you," Rachel said, patting the top of her hand.

Becca smiled at her, leaning her head on Rachel's shoulder. "You know, I'm glad your back. I missed you. Why'd you leave, anyways?"

"I had my reasons," Rachel murmured, looking down.

"Well, why'd you come back?" Becca asked, looking up at Rachel. "I promise not to bite your head off if you say it was because of a bad break up or something," she giggled.

Rachel sighed. "Your brother got me pregnant my senior year, so my dads sent me away. She died a few months ago in a car accident, so I'm trying to forget about it by coming back here, though that doesn't seem to be helping since she looked so much like your brother."

"You had a baby?!" Becca squealed. "You mean I'm an aunt?"

"Was," Rachel corrected. She reached over to the bedside table, grabbing her phone. She flipped through the pictures on it until she came to one of Caroline. "This was her. She was six when she died."

Becca took the phone, smiling. "She was so cute. I wish I got to meet her."

"Yeah, me too," Rachel murmured. "I wish your brother got to meet her too. He was pretty pissed when I told him, but I think he realizes I did it for Caroline's protection. "

"Do you miss her?" Becca asked, leaning against Rachel again as she looked at the picture, her fingers running over the little girl's face.

"Every day. She was my whole life from the moment she was born. It feels wrong not having someone I need to put to bed every night or drive to the park. I keep hoping I'll wake up and this was all a sick dream, but it hasn't happened yet."

"What about having another baby?" Becca asked.

"Yeah, like that's going to happen any time soon," Rachel snorted. "I'm unmarried and come with lots of baggage. Who's going to want to have a baby with me?"

"Noah," she said. "He loves you so much. And if you had another baby with him, he'd be the happiest person in the world."

"Becca, I've been in town a little over a week. I think it's a little early to start talking a baby," she laughed.

"Well, I don't mean right _now_," she said, rolling her eyes at Rachel. "But at some point you two could have another one. Plus, I really want a niece I can spoil rotten, so that's another reason you two should have a baby," she laughed.

Rachel shook her head, pulling Becca close for a hug. "Well, if I somehow get pregnant with your brother's super sperm, I promise you'll be the second person to know."

Becca shook her head. "No, first. I demand to know before my stupid brother, that way I can think of a name before he has a chance," she laughed.

Rachel rolled her eyes, linking arms with Becca as she laid flat on the bed. "How about I call you so you're on the phone when I tell him? Then you both find out at the same time."

"I guess that works. Though I better find out the day you pee on the stick or you'll no longer be my favorite of my brother's girlfriends."

"I'm your favorite?" Rachel asked.

"Well, duh. You're the nicest and the one he dated for the longest. Why wouldn't you be my favorite?" she asked.

"I don't know. I've never been anyone's favorite anything," Rachel said.

"Well, you're my favorite. So don't think about leaving town in the middle of the night this time," Becca said, rolling onto her stomach and closing her eyes.

Rachel smiled, rubbing her back gently. "I'm sorry about your mom. I thought she'd gotten better. She was getting help when I left."

"Yeah, she was okay for a while. But then my grandfather died and she lost her shit again. She's awful when she's drunk, so I figured it was best to peace out for a few days. You know, let her sober up a bit while I serve as a cockblock between you and my brother," she teased.

"There's nothing _to_ cockblock," Rachel said, letting out a yawn. She'd been doing nothing all day, yet she was still exhausted. Probably from the medication they gave her at the hospital.

"Oh come on, you're not telling me you and Noah haven't had a _thorough_ reunion."

"That's exactly what I'm telling you. The bed you're in is quite clean. Well, clean since I got back in town at least," she teased.

"So the sex shark has managed to keep it in his pants around you. He really doesn't want to fuck this up."

"Please don't tell me he still calls himself that," Rachel groaned. "He always used to say that's what he was in high school because he knew it drove me crazy."

"Unfortunately he does. I tell him he sounds like an idiot when he calls himself that, but he doesn't listen to me," Becca laughed, snuggling next to Rachel. "Hey Rae?" she asked.

"Yeah Bex?"

"If it means anything, I bet you were the best mom ever. "

xxxxx

When Puck walked into his apartment, he was met by the smell of chicken and garlic and the sight of Rachel in one of his tee shirts standing over the stove cooking.

"Mm, something smells good," he commented, walking over to her and giving her a kiss on the cheek.

"I figured you'd be hungry when you got back," she said, leaning back against him.

Puck wrapped his arms around her middle, leaning his chin on her shoulder. "You know you look very sexy standing here in just one of my shirts," he murmured in her ear.

"Your sister's here."

"What?" he asked, pulling back slightly.

"According to her, your mother drank the house's supply of alcohol and she was looking for a safe haven for a few days. She's sleeping in your bed—has been for the past few hours."

Noah sighed, leaning his head against the back of her neck. "Great."

"I can head back to my house if you'd like?" she suggested, though she really didn't want to. Her dads were out of town for another few days, and the thought of staying alone in a house where she almost died was terrifying.

"No, stay," he pleaded. "I want you here with me," he said, wrapping his arms around her waist. "I'm not letting you go back there alone," he said.

Rachel smiled, turning her head to the side and kissed his cheek. "You're sweet," she laughed, pulling the chicken off the stove before turning and wrapping her arms around his neck.

"So sweet, I'm getting a cavity," a voice said. Rachel turned, seeing Becca standing there, wearing sweatpants and a large tee shirt. "I know I'm stopping you both from doing the nasty, but it would be nice if I didn't have to walk in on you guys hooking up in the kitchen."

Rachel blushed as Noah pulled her close. "Screw off, Bex. I can still make you go back to Ma's."

"You're an ass," she said, sticking her tongue out at him. "I just came in to get some of Rach's amazing chicken. Then I'm heading over to Kelly's for the night. I thought I'd give you and Rachel some alone time tonight," she said, winking at her brother.

"What makes you think I need alone time?" he asked defensively.

"Well, the fact that Rachel said you haven't properly fucked her yet. Look, I'm being a nice sister and not acting as a cockblock, so be grateful and say thanks before I change my mind and stay cuddled in between the two of you all night," she threatened.

Noah rolled his eyes. "Thanks Becca. Now finish eating and get lost so I can spend some quality time with my woman here."

"_Your_ woman?" she laughed. "What are you, a caveman? Me Noah, Rachel mine," she joked, doing her best impression of a caveman.

Noah rolled his eyes at her before shooing her away. "Beat it," he laughed, watching her head over to the table, plate in her hand.

"I'll be gone in an hour!" she called back to him, her mouth already full with food. "Though if I catch you two making out I'm cancelling my plans," she threatened.

Noah rolled his eyes. "She's sweet," Rachel commented, turning away from Noah as she placed some food on a plate for him. "Why don't you just have her move in with you?"

"Because Ma's a bitch and won't let her. I just have her stay over here a bunch when she needs a break from home. Though she's getting out of this fucked up place and making something of herself in a few months. Assuming she gets in to Princeton," he added.

"She will," Rachel said confidently. "She's much smarter than her older brother."

"Fuck off," he said, shoving her lightly. "I'm smart too."

"Not like Becca is," she teased.

Noah rolled his eyes, putting an arm around Rachel as he picked up their plates, carrying them back to his room. Becca had left her plate on the table and was in his spare room, presumably getting ready for her outing with her friend.

Rachel climbed onto the bed, plate in hand as Noah followed suit. Rachel stretched out across the bed on her stomach while Noah laid back, his head against the headboard while he gently rubbed the back of Rachel's leg.

Becca checked back into the room half an hour later, fully dressed with hair and makeup done. "I'm heading out. I'll be back tomorrow morning and I better not see any boobs or used condoms," she teased, blowing her brother a kiss.

Rachel heard the door open and shut.

They were alone.


	10. Chapter 10

Noah turned to Rachel once they were alone, taking her hand in his. "I thought she would never leave," he muttered, pulling her close for a kiss.

Rachel smiled against his lips, leaning in close to him. "You're just lucky your sister is so willing to give you time alone with the out-of-town reporter," she teased, leaning her head against his chest.

Noah wrapped an arm around Rachel's body, his fingers trailing up and down her spine, slowly pulling the shirt she was wearing up, exposing the bottoms of her white panties.

"You know," he said, looking down at her. "Since we have time alone with no possible chance of someone interrupting us, we really shouldn't waste it," he teased.

"You're right," Rachel agreed. "Your apartment could use some redecorating," she joked.

"Hey you, that's not funny. I don't want the girl in my bed to redecorate, especially not when she's wearing a tee shirt of mine."

Rachel smiled, climbing onto his lap and facing him, her arms wrapped around his neck. "So what kind of hopes did you have for this amazing girl?" she teased. "Scrabble? Checkers? Sleep?"

"No, no, and definitely no. If I have my way, she won't be getting any sleep tonight," he mumbled in her ear, causing Rachel's face to turn bright red. "Ah, so you like that idea too, it seems," he teased, his hands moving up her back and under the shirt.

"Don't make a promise you can't keep," she laughed before she was cut off by Noah's lips. He lifted her up slightly before flipping her over onto her back, him on top of her.

Rachel's back rested on the mattress while Noah's hands remained inside her shirt, moving over her bare chest freely. His lips moved feverishly with hers, not bothering to waste any time.

Rachel ran her fingers through his hair as best as she could, her legs wrapped around his waist.

With one swift movement, Noah pushed the shirt up and over her head, leaving it lying in a crumpled ball on the side of the bed, leaving Rachel's torso fully exposed.

"There, that's better," he muttered, staring down at her.

Rachel flushed at that, her normally pale face a deep shade of red. "Someone's inpatient," she said, attempting a light hearted tone, though it came out more nervous than anything else.

Noah paused for a moment, looking down at her with concern. "Rach, do you want this?" he asked, leaning back. "I don't want you to do anything you're not ready for yet. I mean, I know we've been moving fast and—"

Rachel reached a hand up, pressing her index finger to his lips, silencing him. "Stop," she whispered. "I'm not trying to stop you, so why would you think I don't want this? I do, Noah. I really do."

"You just look a little nervous is all," he said, his hands resting on her stomach, his thumbs drawing circles in the smooth skin.

"The last time I did this with you, I was 18 and still in high school. What's there not to be nervous about?" she said, giving him a look.

"Fair enough," he agreed before his lips were back on hers.

After that, there was no more talking. Clothes were torn off and thrown across the room. Noah was convinced his neighbors didn't get any sleep that night—that or they put in ear plugs so they could get some sleep. He'd forgotten how loud Rachel was.

Sometime around three in the morning, Rachel and Noah gave into their exhaustion, falling asleep in his bed. Noah's arms found their way around Rachel's body, his blanket covering both of them.

xxxxx

Becca ended up walking back into the apartment around nine the next morning, still dressed in the clothes she'd left in the night before. She dropped her purse on the floor in the kitchen, expecting to find her brother and Rachel eating breakfast.

Her friend, Kelly, had insisted on coming with her. After all, no girl was going to walk around town alone when some psycho was butchering girls left and right.

The kitchen was empty and the apartment was silent. Becca spotted the leftover chicken still sitting in the pan on the stove, as well as the dirty plates on the kitchen table. She turned to Kelly, arching an eyebrow.

"Think they went out to get something to eat?" Kelly asked, covering her mouth as she let out a yawn.

"No way. Noah is anal about putting food away and cleaning up. He doesn't want bugs in here." She put a finger to her lips, tip-toeing down the hall. Kelly followed behind as Becca pushed open the door to Noah's room.

Kelly covered her mouth, giggling a little. "Isn't that precious?" she whispered to Becca. Noah and Rachel were still fast asleep in his bed. The blanket had shifted a little during the night, resting comfortable at their waists. Rachel was curled into Noah's chest, his arms wrapped protectively around her.

Becca reached into her pocket, pulling out her phone. "This is too adorable not to get on camera," she whispered, taking a picture of the two of them. She turned back to Kelly. "They're not getting up any time soon. Want to steal his keys and grab breakfast in town?" she asked.

Kelly nodded her head, and the two girls exited the bedroom, closing the door behind them. Before leaving, Becca sent her brother a text, attaching the picture she took.

_Kelly and I are headed out to breakfast. Hope you wrapped it ;-)_

Noah woke up to his phone buzzing, groaning as he rolled over in bed. He hadn't gotten near enough sleep, though it had been entirely worth it. He glanced next to him at Rachel, who had rolled onto her side now that he was no longer cuddled with her.

Noah flipped open his phone, expecting to be needed at the station. Luckily, there were no messages from them, though there was one from his sister.

Curious, he opened the message and was greeted by the picture of him and Rachel in bed, both sleeping. At first, he was stunned his sister would take something like that, though he kept looking at the picture, smiling at how perfect he and Rachel looked together.

He heard a soft sigh as Rachel rolled over in bed. A pair of hands was on his back, and soon she was sitting up, her arms wrapped around his middle, her lips on his shoulder.

"That's a very sexy picture, you know," she murmured, her fingers gingerly dragging over his bare stomach.

Noah chucked, nodding his head. "It is," he agreed, reaching back to pull her closer.

Rachel let out a small laugh as she read the message. "Nice to see inappropriate talk is a Puckerman trait," she teased, kissing the side of his neck.

Noah laughed, turning his head to the side so her lips were pressed against his. He leaned back until he was lying on top of her, laughing as Rachel squealed, hitting him in the shoulder.

"Noah, you big oaf! Get off me!"

"Oh, now you want me off you? That's not what you were saying last night, babe," he teased, grinning as her face turned red. "I'm surprised the neighbors weren't banging on my door, yelling at me to keep it down in here."

That caused Rachel to turn an even deeper shade of red. "You're vulgar."

"And you're a prude," he shot back.

Rachel rolled her eyes. "I think I proved to you last night that I'm the furthest thing from a prude. 'Oh Rachel, just like that baby'," she said in her best Noah voice. "I don't think you would have been begging for my amazing sex skills all night long if I was a prude," she said before standing up, wrapping the sheet around her body.

Noah rolled his eyes, lying back in his bed. "I've seen it all, both before and last night. No need for modesty."

"Well, maybe I don't feel like walking around you're apartment naked. Your sister is staying here," she reminded him.

"So? It's not like's never seen a naked chick—she is one, after all. Besides, I forgot to tell you the one rule of my apartment."

Rachel looked at Noah, cocking an eyebrow. "What's that?" she asked.

"Once you ride the sex shark, clothes remain off until he says so."

Rachel scoffed, ignoring him. "I can't believe you still call yourself that," she called as she walked into the bathroom, shutting the door behind her. Noah heard the water turn on, figuring Rachel was taking a shower.

He got up, grabbing a clean pair of boxers out of his dresser and pulled them on. He was due at the station in an hour—he didn't even get the damn weekend off with all these murders to solve.

He was searching for a clean shirt when his phone started ringing. The water had already turned off, so he figured Rachel was drying off.

He reached over, picking up his phone. "Sheriff Puckerman," he sighed into it, not wanting to deal with work this early.

Rachel walked out of the bathroom, finding Noah seated on the edge of the bed, his head resting in his free hand. She took a seat beside him, rubbing his back as she kissed his bare shoulder. He didn't even seem to notice she was there.

"Yeah, yeah. I'll be there as soon as I can," he said before snapping his phone shut.

"Who's dead now?" Rachel asked.

Noah leaned over, kissing her lips. "No one," he promised. "They just finished examining Santana's body, and they found something that wasn't on the other ones."

"What'd they find?" Rachel asked.

Noah shook his head. "Sorry, can't tell you. You're the press. Do you know how much trouble I'd get in?"

Rachel frowned, crossing her arms over her chest. "Oh come on, who cares? No one's going to know it was you."

"Seeing as I'm very publically going around town with you, I think people will put two and two together."

"Santana would want me to know. She talked to me. She'd want me to know what you found so I could help you nail this bastard to the wall."

"That may be true, but Santana isn't here to tell me that. Besides, rules are rules. I can't tell you anything." Noah paused for a moment. "But, if you just happened to catch a glimpse at a police file, like the one I'm going to have to bring home to finish my work, well, I can't help that," he said, kissing her lips before getting up. "I'll be home late," he said, pulling on a pair of khaki pants and a dark t-shirt. He threw on his jacket, slipping into his shoes.

"Don't forget your phone," Rachel said, handing it to him.

He nodded his head, slipping his phone and keys into his pocket. "See you tonight," he said, kissing her forehead before heading out the door.

xxxxx

By the time Noah made it home, he was completely exhausted. Rachel had dinner ready for him, but he seemed too tired to even put food in his mouth.

"Long day?" Rachel asked, seated on his bed with her laptop open. She'd been writing all day, sending her progress to James. He'd already published a piece on Brittany, and he emailed her to tell her the article on Santana would probably go to print tomorrow. He also said he wished she'd come home, but she'd ignored that.

"You can't even imagine," he said, crashing onto his bed next to her, his face resting on his pillow. She heard snores a few minutes later.

Rachel shook her head, kissing his head. He was going to be out for a while. Quietly, Rachel climbed out of bed, looking at the papers he'd brought home from work. There were two folders, each with a name on them.

Rachel looked at the one marked 'Santana Lopez' and picked it up. She flipped through it until she found the medical examiner's report.

Rachel took a seat at the table, reading the information on the page. It all seemed like a bunch of medical talk that meant nothing to her, but two things stood out.

They'd found a few long, blonde hairs in Santana's hand, and there were two types of blood on her body, both female.

One of them belonged to Santana. One of them was unknown.

This changed everything. The killer—the killer was a girl.

Rachel ran back into the room, grabbing her computer. The placed it on the kitchen table, opening it before typing frantically. She had so much to change now.

She'd assumed the killer was a man, someone who'd dated both Brittany and Santana, someone who wanted revenge on them.

But a girl killer, that was something new. It was someone who was jealous of them, someone who hated them, someone who couldn't let a grudge go.

Someone with long, blonde hair.

Quinn Fabray.


	11. Chapter 11

**AN: This chapter is about Quinn completely. The story will return to Rachel and Puck next chapter. Also, thank you to everyone who has reviewed so far. You are all amazing.**

Quinn Fabray had always known what kind of life she wanted. She wanted the American dream—the loving husband, the 2.5 kids, the house with the white-picket fence.

From the moment she started dating Finn Hudson, she always saw him as that perfect, doting husband, the one who would bring her flowers every Friday after he came home from work, the one who would be willing to cook dinner every so often, the one who would coach their son's baseball team.

She'd been grooming him for that all through high school. But then they broke up, and the vision Quinn had of their life slowly started slipping away.

So she'd hooked up with Noah Puckerman. He had never been her first choice, but he was cute enough. Plus, he'd been dating that freak Berry forever, so he knew how to treat a woman.

She thought they were going to start dating, but he'd pushed her away like Finn had. Of course, Finn and her got back together shortly afterwards. She couldn't have him knowing that, in the two minutes they were broken up, she'd willingly let another boy into her bed.

It was the only logical thing to say she was raped. After all, she was the queen bee. Who wouldn't believe her?

Her father, that was who. He saw right through her lie, and, much to her anger, actually _defended_ Noah Puckerman, publically calling Quinn a liar.

She stopped talking to her father after that.

Of course, she and Finn ended things for good after that, though she never let go of her first love, of the boy who had broken her heart.

She watched him move on to Brittany Pierce, and she grew to hate the girl. Brittany, who was so dumb that she appeared to be innocent, never even knew she'd incurred the wrath of Quinn Fabray.

She thought they were still friends.

Outwardly, Quinn pretended to be friends with Brittany. But inside, she was planning her revenge, planning a way to get back at everyone who had wronged her.

Brittany was the obvious first victim. She stole Finn's heart, stopped him from crawling back to Quinn begging for forgiveness. Instead, he'd moved on with that slut and had all but forgotten about the head cheerleader he dated in high school.

She wanted to kill Brittany herself, wanted to see the life drain from her face until there was nothing left. It didn't matter that she wasn't with Finn anymore—Quinn felt Brittany was the reason _she_ wasn't back with Finn.

Cutting off the hair had been a spur of the moment decision, actually. She'd look down at Brittany's body after she'd strangled her. The bitch even looked beautiful when she was dead.

So Quinn pulled a knife from her pocket and hacked off the blonde's golden locks. Eyeing the ring on her finger, she'd grabbed that too.

Carving the message into her stomach had been the one part Quinn really enjoyed. She had to get people's attention someway, and this was the best way to do it.

Quinn had taken a lock of hair and placed it in her pocket along with the engagement ring.

Originally, she had planned to just leave the body there, but she decided that was more than Brittany deserved.

It was night, so there was still time to move the body. She'd driven home, finding her current boyfriend in her kitchen, packing back and forth.

"Where were you?" Sam asked, looking very stressed. "You said you were going to the store, and then you vanish without a word for five hours. Something could have—is that blood?"

Quinn looked down at her hands, noticing a few specks of blood on her. She really wasn't much of a criminal—one murder and she'd already been caught. She couldn't let Sam turn her in—she had more work to do.

"Yes, it's blood," she said, not an ounce of remorse in her voice. "Get your keys—we're going for a drive."

Sam had driven back to the store with Quinn, the building dark. No one would be back there until the morning. Quinn figured Brittany's fiancée was starting to worry about where she was, but more because he thought she was talking to the cops.

Quinn had seen the bruises, had walked past their house and heard the shouting. It was no secret Brian beat her. If she was a caring person, Quinn might have done something.

But she wasn't. Brittany deserved whatever had happened to her in life and what was going to happen to her after life. She doubted it would be pleasant, though. Girls who dated their friend's exes went to hell. It was the rule of life or something like that.

Plus, Quinn and God were practically best friends. He'd take her side and send that good for nothing ex-boyfriend dater straight to hell.

When Sam walked in and saw Brittany dead, he almost fainted. "Jesus Quinn, what the hell happened?" he asked, placing a hand on his forehead, pushing his hair back.

"She deserved it," Quinn said simply. "She ruined my life."

"Then spread a rumor about her. I mean, did you really need to kill her?"

"Yes."

Sam stared at his girlfriend. They'd only started dating a few months ago after Quinn had come back to town. He always knew she was a little high-strung, but he never thought she was actually crazy.

"We need to get rid of her body," Quinn continued, oblivious to what was going on in Sam's head. "We need to throw her away like the trash she is. Let's leave her in the woods—if we're lucky, the animals will finish her off before the police ever find her."

Sam loaded Brittany's body into the back of his car, driving off with Quinn. They stopped at the edge of the woods, and Sam carried the body in, leaving her in a pile of leaves. He didn't even try to hide the body—Quinn told him not to.

When he got back to the car, he was dripping with sweat and panting slightly.

"You know," Quinn said as he started the car again. "This is kind of turning me on."

"What is?" Sam asked, unable to even look at her. He couldn't believe Quinn had actually killed someone, let alone someone like Brittany. The girl was sweet as pie—no one in town disliked her.

"Committing a crime. Watching you help me cover it up. I think we should do this again."

"_Again?_" Sam practically shouted. "You want to kill someone else? Who?"

"Santana Lopez. I probably should have killed her first—she's the one who really ruined my life."

"What did Santana ever do to you?" he asked, though he was sure there was a list. Santana was someone who didn't have many friends due to her ability to piss people off easily.

"She turned the whole town against me after the shit with Puck when we were younger. She got my _dad_ to go against me. She doesn't deserve to be alive."

"Quinn, I don't know. This is murder you're talking about. Isn't killing one girl enough?"

"No," she said, her eyes narrowed. "Santana needs to die."

xxxxx

Rachel hadn't even been her idea. It took a few days, but eventually Sam came over to her side and agreed to help her kill Santana. Of course, it had taken a lot of convincing, but it had been worth it in the end.

Rachel had been all him. He'd come back and told her what happened. Though, of course, he hadn't managed to kill her.

He'd even gotten himself hurt in the process.

"I can't believe you!" Quinn had screamed at him after he'd come back, his arm bruised and his head cut. "Because of this, we're going to get caught! I haven't even killed Santana yet!"

"Well, you're going to. She's in the basement."

"What?"

"I went to kill her last night, but the bitch put up one hell of a fight."

Sam had then led Quinn into the basement, showing her where Santana was tied to a chair.

"What the fuck did you bring her here for? You were supposed to kill her and then dump her body! People are out looking for her!"

"Look, I panicked. Her neighbor started knocking on the door and threatened to call the cops if she didn't keep the noise down. I had to get out of there. I just didn't have time to kill her like you wanted."

Quinn sighed. "Well, she was the one I wanted to kill anyways."

Quinn had walked into the basement, and after a few words, killed Santana with Sam. She'd managed to cut herself during the stabbing, though she doubted it would matter. There was so much blood, how was anyone going to be able to find the one drop of blood from her?

Sam had taken care of the body while Quinn cleaned up their basement. She then showered and burned the clothes she'd worn in the fireplace.

When Sam returned home, she took care of his clothes before cleaning out the car, making sure all traces of Santana were gone from the home. She couldn't risk anything being tied back to them.

That night, when Quinn climbed into bed next to Sam, she spoke to him. "I'm still mad about you screwing up, but I suppose this is good. We now have someone we can frame for this," she said quietly.

"Who?" he asked, turning to face her.

"Finn Hudson."

"Finn, your old boyfriend?" he asked curiously.

"Yes. He's the one with the motive."

"You have the motive, darling. You're the one who hates both of the dead girls."

"Yes, but you're the only one who knows that. Finn, on the other hand, dated all of the victims, Rachel included."

"He did?" Sam asked.

"Sure. He and Santana dated for a few months freshman year while he and Rachel dated sophomore year. You already know about him and Brittany."

"Okay, that's all and well, but how are we going to get the police to figure this out?"

"You're going to make it look like I was attacked. Then, when the police question me, I'll tell them it was Finn. Nothing can go wrong."

xxxxx

Of course, everything can go wrong. Quinn never suspected her boyfriend, her partner in the murders, was looking to make her the next victim all along.

Sam Evans wasn't as innocent as she thought he was. He had another motive the whole time.

So, when Quinn suggested for him to pretend to attack her, he knew it was the perfect time to cut his losses and get rid of the bitch.

Quinn was cleaning the living room when Sam walked in, gloves on his hands. He slipped behind her, placing his hands around her throat and squeezed tightly.

Quinn coughed and gasped.

"Sam," she managed. "What are you doing?"

"Something I should have done a long time ago." She didn't speak after that. Sam wrestled her to the floor, sitting on top of her as he choked the life out of her. She stared up at him with her blue eyes the whole time, tears falling. She couldn't believe he's turned on her like this.

Once she was dead, Sam stood up. She brought her body to the car and left it in there, planning on dumping it later.

Everything was almost done, now. All that was left to do was kill Rachel Berry.


	12. Chapter 12

Noah woke up the next morning, finding Rachel seated in bed, furiously typing on her laptop. She had one of his shirts on and her hair was piled on top of her head, pulled into a messy bun.

He rolled onto his side, wrapping an arm around her waist. She didn't even seem to register his presence.

"Morning," he said, placing a kiss on her hip.

"Morning," she muttered, not bothering to look down at him. Her attention seemed to be glued to her computer screen, her fingers dancing across the keys.

Noah sat up, yawning as he stretched his arms over his head before wrapping them around her, leaning his chin on his shoulder. "What are you working on so early?" he asked.

"Article," she said quickly, still not pulling her eyes away. "Got some new information last night." She pulled her eyes away finally, looking at him. "Noah, I think I know who's killing everyone."

"You do?" he asked, arching an eyebrow.

"It's Quinn," she said confidently. "The hair they found has to be hers. She's connected to every victim. It all makes sense."

Noah rolled his eyes, lying back down. "There's no way a chick did this. It's too brutal."

Rachel turned her head, fixing Noah with a glare. "Just because they were killed in brutal ways doesn't mean a guy has to have done it. A girl could easily be the killer." Rachel pressed the enter key a little more forcefully than she had to.

"Rach, girls just aren't that evil. No girl would go around killing other girls in town. It just doesn't make sense."

Rachel turned her head, looking down at him before turning, climbing over before sitting on top of his chest.

"Oh, I like this," Noah teased. "I'll like it even more if you take your shirt off."

Rachel rolled her eyes at him. "Don't be vulgar," she scolded. She placed her hands on his chest. "But it being a girl does make sense. Why else would there be no sexual assault on the victims? Why else would the hair be cut off of those things carved into them?"

"Yes, but how would Quinn over power both Brittany and Santana before killing them? Hell, Santana put up a fight. Quinn's not strong enough for that."

"Maybe she has a partner?" Rachel suggested.

"Like who? There's no one in town that would willingly help her—" He was cut off by his phone ringing. Noah looked up at Rachel for a moment. "Don't move," he ordered, reaching over onto his nightstand and grabbed his phone, flipping it open. "Sheriff Puckerman," he said, placing the phone to his ear.

Rachel watched Noah's face, his brown creasing in frustration. Clearly, whatever this phone call was about was stressing him out.

"No, stay there. I'm getting up now. NO! Don't touch _anything_!" Noah shouted into the phone, causing Rachel to lean back slightly. "I'll be right there, Sam. Just stay put and wait for me to get there. Tell Andy to get his ass out of bed, too," he said, closing the phone.

Rachel looked down curiously at him, her bottom lip in between her teeth.

"Well, you were wrong about Quinn being the killer. She's dead," Noah said. Rachel carefully climbed off him, sitting beside him in bed. "Sam just found her body behind The Lima Bean. She was dumped just like the others." Noah's voice seemed dead.

"Noah, I know I'm right about this," Rachel whispered. "I know she's involved somehow. Maybe she was working with a partner and they—"

"Damn it, Rachel, just stop!" he yelled. "The one person you were convinced did this is dead, so drop it," he said, climbing out of bed. Rachel shrunk back against the headboard, pulling the blankets to her chest.

She watched as Noah pulled a pair of jeans on before finding a shirt in his closet, pulling it on. He seemed to forget Rachel was even there, walking into the bathroom without even glancing at her.

Rachel pulled her knees to her chest, her whole body trembling. She wasn't used to Noah yelling at her like that—or even speaking to her with a raised voice.

Noah emerged a moment later, his face somber. He walked over towards Rachel, sitting on the edge of the bed with his back to her.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly, his head down. "I shouldn't have yelled at you like that."

Rachel crawled over to him, kneeling behind him before wrapping her arms around his neck. She leaned her chin on his shoulder, the side of her face pressed against his.

"It's just this case. I'm not cut out for this, Rachel. I'm not used to watching people I know turn up dead without being able to do anything to stop it. I don't know how much more of this I can take. And even if we do find this guy, I don't know how I'm going to stay here and have everyone in town hating me for not catching him sooner. Because, when this all ends, they're all going to blame me for letting it go on as long as it has."

Rachel tightened her arms, holding him close to her. "I don't blame you, Noah. I think you're a wonderful sheriff. You're exactly what they need right now. You're the person who's out there making sure something gets done. You're the one who leaves early and comes home late. You're the one who puts the job ahead of everything else, even me. You're doing everything you can to stop this, and if people here can't see that, then fuck them."

Rachel saw a small smile form on his face before she buried her face against his shoulder.

"You know, you're one of the only people I know who uses the phrase 'fuck them' in a pep talk to a sheriff," he joked, reaching back to grab her. He pulled her onto his lap, his arms around her waist.

Rachel wrapped her legs around his waist, her arms going around his neck as she kissed him on the lips.

Noah ran his hands through her hair, pulling her close. He didn't care that she had morning breath or had just rolled out of bed. He loved her, now more than ever.

Rachel pulled back after a long kiss, resting her head against his chest as he rubbed her back. "Besides," she said. "If people are assholes to you after this all ends, you can leave this town and be with me instead."

"Baby, I'm always going to be with you."

Rachel pulled her head up, looking him in the eye. "No, I'm being serious. You can leave Ohio and come to Philadelphia or New York or Texas or wherever the hell we want to go. We'll travel the world and fuck and have a baby and then another and then another. We'll do whatever we want to and no one will be able to tell us not to," she said.

Noah laughed, his hands resting on her hips.

"Don't laugh. I'm being serious," Rachel pouted. "I left this town a long time ago. I'm never moving back. I know that. But I also know I don't want to lose you again. I want to be with you forever and ever."

"I want to be with you too," he murmured, placing a kiss along the side of her neck. He moved his head to the other side, placing another kiss on her neck before letting his lips trail down as Rachel kept talking.

"I want you to leave this town with me, come home with me, stay with me and –_oh_," she gasped, her fingers digging into his shoulders as he started sucking on an area at the base of her throat.

Noah slid his hands up and under her shirt, moving his hands to the front of her body. He found her breasts, his hands easily fitting around them.

Rachel started grinding against his hips, her hands still resting on his shoulders. "Don't you have a job to do?" she asked breathlessly. "I thought Sam needed you at the body?"

"He can wait for a bit," Noah said, flipping her onto her back, his hands still inside her shirt. "I'd like to start the day off right and fuck my girlfriend."

Rachel's cheeks went red at his words before her eyes narrowed seductively. She reached for his waist, pulling his belt loose. "I'm guessing it has to be quick so the entire sheriff's department doesn't know you got lucky this morning?" she teased, pulling him out, her hands running up and down his shaft.

Noah pulled a condom out, quickly tearing the package open and slid it on himself. Rachel slipped her panties off as he did so, spreading her legs slightly for him.

Noah, still fully dressed, wasted no time and pushed himself into Rachel, who let out an audible gasp. She grabbed his shoulders, digging her fingers into the fabric of his shirt.

"Oh, yes baby," she moaned as he started his rhythm, slowly moving in and out of her. "Right there, Noah. Yes, right there," she gasped, digging her fingers more into him.

Noah began to speed up, his hands roughly playing with her chest under the shirt she still wore. "Come on, Rachel. I want to _hear_ you," he grunted, moving his hips harder into hers.

Rachel gasped again, letting out a loud moan. "Oh, Noah," she whispered. "Oh, oh, _oh_," she said, getting louder each time.

Noah reached a hand down, playing with her as he tried to get her off as fast as possible, feeling himself building already.

Rachel moved her hips with his thrusts, lifting her body up each time he slammed into her. "Yes, Noah. Harder!" she screamed. "So close," she moaned as he moved his fingers and thrusts faster.

Noah knew when she was over the edge. Her eyes closed and her back arched as she let out a few short screams of pleasure. Noah could feel her clench around him, which was what did it for him. He felt himself release into her, speeding up his thrusts until he was finally finished, collapsing on top of Rachel.

She was panting, her chest heaving up and down rapidly. Noah pulled himself out of her, sliding the condom off him and tossed it into the trash. He stood up, cleaning himself up slightly before zipping his pants.

Rachel sat up in bed, a satisfied expression on her face. She climbed off the bed, jumping into his arms and planted a long kiss on his lips. "Be safe. Catch the bad guy," she said once she had pulled away.

Noah laughed, holding her tight. "I'll do my best. You stay safe. Don't leave the apartment unless you have to. I'll be back as soon as I can." He kissed the top of her head, setting her back on the ground.

He grabbed his keys, putting them in his pocket before heading for the door, pulling it open.

"Noah?" he heard.

Noah turned, seeing Rachel standing right where he had left her.

"Yeah?"

"I love you."

Noah smiled at that, pretty sure he looked like the biggest dumbass on the planet with a huge goofy grin on his face.

"I love you too," he said, getting a slight chill as he said it. It felt like he was saying goodbye to her. Shaking that thought off, he walked out of the apartment, unaware of what was waiting for Rachel.


	13. Chapter 13

Noah pulled up to The Lima Bean in his car, letting out a sigh. He was sick of dealing with all this death in his town. It was times like this he hated being the sheriff.

Ever since he'd gotten the job, he'd mostly liked it. People treated him with respect instead of acting like he was the town screw up. People actually looked to him for what to do when there was trouble.

At least they normally did.

Noah had stopped going into the local diners in the morning for coffee. Every time he entered, the conversations stopped, meaning everyone there had just been talking about him.

He knew what they were saying. Noah Puckerman, town screw up. Can't do something as simple as catching a killer of women. They all probably thought he was the killer.

Noah stepped out of the car, shutting the door behind him. Rachel's idea that Quinn was the killer kept nagging in the back of his mind. There was no way she was the killer—she was dead, after all. But why would Rachel seem so convinced she was involved? Maybe there was some truth to her theory.

And, if she was involved, then she had to know who killed her. Her relationship to this guy was probably what got her killed in the first place.

Noah walked up to Sam, who was standing off to the side, keeping everyone away from the body. He looked visibly distraught. Not that Noah blamed him—Quinn had been his girlfriend, after all. He'd never understood why anyone would willingly date her, but to each his own. Some people probably though the same thing about Rachel dating him.

"You okay, Evans?" he asked, walking up to Sam and clapping him on the back. "You look stressed."

"I—I just—I can't even process this. I was just coming to get some coffee. I thought—she was supposed to be visiting her grandmother. That's why I didn't think anything of it when she didn't come home last night."

Noah looked at Sam. His second-in-command was trembling, unable to even look at Quinn's body. Noah could understand—he'd almost lost it when he saw Rachel after she'd been attacked a few weeks ago.

"Why don't you take the day off?" he suggested. "Go give your statement to Andy, then head home. You need some time to relax and grieve. I'm not going to make you stay here, especially not with the scene so fresh."

"You sure?" Sam asked, looking at Noah. "I don't want to leave you short a man."

"I'll give David a call. I know he's supposed to be home helping his wife with the new baby, but this is an emergency. You go home and take some time off. I'll call you if I need anything," he said.

"Thanks so much, Sheriff. I Just…I haven't even told her parents," he muttered.

"Don't worry about it, Sam. That's my job. I'll make the notifications," Noah promised. "You go home and get some rest. You need a break from all this death." He patted Sam on the back once more. "Get out of here."

Sam nodded, expressing his thanks once more before heading over to where Deputy Andy was. Noah watched the two men talk as Andy took Sam's statement, Noah turning his back to them after. He didn't need to worry about Andy getting Sam's version of what he found or the few days leading up to Quinn's death.

Noah ducked under the yellow tape isolating Quinn's body from everything else, bending beside her. Unlike the other two bodies he'd seen recently, Quinn was much less maimed. In fact, besides the fact that she wasn't breathing, she didn't even look dead. The blonde looked perfectly put together like she normally did.

It didn't even look like the same person had killed her.

"Mark?" he called over to one his deputies.

Mark looked up, walking over to Noah. "Yes, Sheriff?"

"We sure this is the same guy? I mean, this doesn't look like the Lopez or Pierce scenes."

"What do you mean, sir?" Mark asked, bending on the ground beside Noah.

"Both Brittany and Santana had their hair chopped up. They had something carved into them. I mean, you could barely recognize those girls, they were tortured so badly. But Quinn…she barely looks dead."

"You think we got a second murderer?" he asked.

Noah sighed, rising to his feet. "No, this has to be the same guy. But maybe…"

"Maybe what, Sheriff?" Mark asked, looking up at Noah curiously.

"Something Rachel said this morning. She was so convinced Quinn was behind these murders."

"And you believe the words of your reporter girlfriend?" Mark scoffed.

"Hey, she knows what she's talking about," Noah snapped defensively. "She's covered murders before. Hell, she probably knows more about this stuff than I do. But she said maybe Quinn had a partner. Maybe Quinn killed the other girls and the partner did this—that's why this looks different."

"Well, if that's how it went, then who's this partner?"

Noah seemed to stand still, thinking to himself. "It's got to be someone she was close with. It's not like you decide to kill people with just any random person you meet on the street."

"We should ask Sam," Mark suggested.

Noah shook his head. "No, I'm not putting the poor guy through that today. He just lost his girlfriend. I don't know if he could handle the news that now we're looking into her for multiple murders. We'll have to do some digging. First I'll get the medical examiner to look at her body. Maybe the killer left something behind that we'll be able to use to identify the bastard. I want to catch this guy—no girl in town is safe with him on the streets," Noah muttered, thinking of Rachel.

He hoped she was still in the apartment doing what he asked her to do. Though, if Noah knew Rachel as well as he did, he knew she wasn't going to be content sitting there waiting for him.

She'd want to go out and catch this prick herself.

xxxxx

Rachel had fallen into a routine after Santana died. The Latina had been her only friend in town besides Noah, so she'd found herself feeling very lonely.

That's where Rebecca Puckerman came in.

The teenager, not wanting to spend a lot of time at home with her mother, had started stopping over at Noah's apartment after the high school let out. Noah was typically still at work, though Rachel was alone in his apartment.

Becca would stay for a few hours, keeping Rachel company and helping her clean up her brother's apartment. Rachel enjoyed having the young girl around, even if she was a bit annoying from time to time. It was better than being alone.

Today, however, Becca had a group project to finish; meaning Rachel was alone all afternoon. Rachel had grown accustomed to the daily conversations with Noah's sister, leaving her feeling more alone than usual.

Rachel had been in the apartment since Noah had left in the morning, knowing how he hated her leaving. He didn't trust her outside without someone with her. Rachel thought it was ridiculous, but she had no desire to die, so she was willing to listen to him for the time being.

Rachel's dads had returned from their trip a week ago. Besides demanding that Rachel pay for the damages to their house from her attack, they'd hardly spoken to her. In fact, they hadn't even asked where she was living.

Rachel lugged her laptop over to Noah's kitchen table, reading over the final draft of her most recent article. She bit her lip, highlighting the last line she'd typed. She wasn't sure if she wanted to keep the part in about the possibility of Quinn being involved. After all, guilty or not, the girl was dead. Rachel kept it the way it was before saving it and sending it on to James, who would look over it before printing it.

With her latest piece done, she had nothing to do except sit in Noah's apartment and watch her fingernails grow, which was not very fun in her opinion.

She supposed she could start on dinner for her and Noah, but there was hardly any food in his apartment. Plus, with Noah having taken her car keys with him to work, she had no chance to even sneak out for twenty minutes. It felt like she was under house arrest.

Just as she was getting up to cook whatever she could find in the kitchen for her and Noah to share for dinner, she heard the buzzer from Noah's door, meaning he had a visitor.

She walked over to the console on the wall, pressing the button. "Yes?" she asked.

"Rach, it's Finn," came a voice. It didn't sound like Finn to her, but she supposed people sounded different speaking through a call box. "Can you buzz me in?"

"Noah's not here," Rachel answered, still feeling a bit wary. Something didn't seem right. "It's just me here right now, and I don't know when Noah's going to be back."

"I'm here to see you," came the strange voice that was supposed to be Finn.

"Why?" she asked.

"I thought you could use some more information. You know, about Quinn. I heard they found her body today."

Rachel froze, her finger still resting on the speak button. This was so strange. Last time, Finn was reluctant to speak to her, yet now he was coming forward without her even asking? It just didn't make sense.

"I don't know," Rachel said, chewing on her lower lip. "This isn't my apartment. I don't know if Noah wants anyone up here when he's not here…"

"Rach, come on. I'm Noah's best friend. He'd want me to come up. Besides, I bet you're lonely with him gone all the time. Plus, I have lots of stuff about Quinn. It'd probably make a juicy article," he said, baiting her.

Rachel let out a sigh before buzzing him in. She walked into the kitchen, putting out a pitcher of lemonade and two glasses. The first thing she was going to do was demand Finn to tell her why he was really over here. His story just didn't seem right.

If she had been paying attention, she may have heard the door open. If she hadn't been lost in her own thoughts, she would have heard the footsteps behind her. And if she had been looking into the window instead of at the ceiling, she would have seen the figure behind her with his arms outstretched before it was too late.

Unfortunately for Rachel, she didn't hear or see any of it. The first sign that something was wrong was a pair of hands circling her throat.

She was pulled back away from the kitchen counter, Rachel letting out strangled gasps, her lungs desperate for air.

Her attacker, however, had closed off her windpipe, his hands tight around her throat.

Rachel clawed at the hands, trying to get them off her, but it was no use. He was too strong.

"Finn," she gasped. "Finn, what are you doing?" she asked, attempting to turn so she could look him in the eye. She couldn't believe it was him. Santana had _trusted_ him! And here he was, too cowardly to even look at her as he was killing her.

She attempted to kick him by aiming her leg backwards, but he managed to dodge out of the way.

Rachel tried everything to fight back, but all that did was waste the little oxygen she had left. She saw dark spots appearing before her eyes, and a moment later, she went limp.

Sam let go of Rachel and watched as she slumped to the ground. He knelt beside her, watching the slow rise of her chest. She was still alive. He was furious. She must have passed out from no oxygen instead of dying.

He walked over to the bed, grabbing a pillow before walking back over to Rachel's unconscious body, shaking his head. "You stupid women are too trusting. You didn't even question me when I said I was boy next door Finn," he sneered, walking around her body.

His eyes never left her as he knelt beside her, the pillow in his hands. "You know, this was all really too easy. And getting away with it's going to be even easier. After all, who's going to suspect the good, honest, Deputy Sam Evans?" he laughed, lowering the pillow over her face.

He was just about to press the material down and finish what he had started when there was another buzz.

Sam cursed, tossing the pillow aside and standing up. "Rachel?" came a voice from the intercom. "It's Finn. Puck asked me to check in on you. Can you buzz me up?"

Sam grinned, pressing the button to buzz Finn in, then tiptoed away from Rachel, hiding behind an open closet door. He picked up a heavy candlestick in the process, waiting.

Finn walked through the door, shopping bags in his hand. "Your boyfriend said he was running low on food so I thought you and I could cook something for—Rachel!" he shouted, seeing her on the floor, not moving.

Finn tossed the bags aside, falling to his knees beside her limp body. The skin on her neck was starting to turn purple, taking the distinct shape of two hands.

"No, Rachel," Finn was saying, shaking her. "Come on, Rachel. Don't do this to me. Don't do this to Puck. You have to wake up!" he yelled, shaking her again. Rachel didn't answer, her eyes staying closed.

The next thing Finn knew, something hard hit the back of his head. He collapsed onto the floor, knocked out.

Sam dropped the candlestick on the ground, looking down at Rachel and Finn. He took Finn's unconscious body, dragging it so he was lying on top of Rachel. He placed Finn's hands around Rachel's neck before picking up his cellphone. With a grin, he dialed Noah's number.

xxxxx

It took two minutes for Noah to drive to his apartment. As soon as Sam had said he'd walked in on Rachel being attacked, he dropped his phone and jumped into his car, driving as fast as he could.

He didn't even bother with the door code. He used all his force and broke the front door of the apartment building down, taking the stairs two at a time until he reached his floor.

He could hear the sirens in the distance, his backup coming. Noah didn't bother waiting. He threw the door to his apartment open, stopping dead when he saw the scene before his eyes. There was Sam, standing off to the side, a candlestick on the ground by his feet.

Finn Hudson was lying unconscious on the floor, bleeding from the back of his head. Underneath him, Rachel was sprawled out, looking dead.

Noah dropped to his knees, pushing Finn off her. He lifted her shoulders up, letting her head rest in his lap. "Rachel, baby, please open your eyes," he whispered, tears starting to fall down his face. "Please, baby. Come back to me," he whispered, kissing her forehead. "I know you're in there. Please Rachel. I can't do this without you. I need you to open your eyes.

The door to his apartment flew open as his other deputies came in. They all stopped when they saw Noah on the floor with Rachel in his arms.

None of them said anything. They just watched their sheriff as he cradled the seemingly lifeless body of Rachel Berry.

"God damn it, Rachel! Don't you die!" he yelled before he started giving her CPR. Everyone watched silently as she remained still before there was a cough and Rachel started screaming.

Noah gasped before pulling her close. "Rachel! Baby, it's okay. It's me, it's Noah," he said, holding her close.

Rachel didn't seem to hear him. Instead, she kept screaming and thrashing trying to get free of him. "Finn, stop!" she screamed. "Get off me! Someone help me!"

"Rachel!" Noah shouted, pulling her back so she could see it was him. "You're safe now. You're safe," he promised.

Rachel fell silent as she looked into Noah's eyes. She threw her arms around his neck then as she burst into tears.

Noah nodded to Deputy David, who gestured for the EMTs to come in and take care of Finn. Once he was out of the room, Noah stood, carrying Rachel with him. She was refusing to let go of him, still sobbing.

He walked over to Sam as another group of EMTs came in, pulling Rachel away from Noah and placing her on a stretcher.

"Noah!" she screamed, reaching for him. "Noah, don't let them take me away!"

Noah was at her side instantly, taking her hand. "Shh, baby. It's okay. I'm right here. I'm going to follow the ambulance to the hospital. You're going to go to sleep now, but I'll be there when you wake up. I promise," he said as the one EMT pushed some medication through a syringe. Rachel's eyes began to get heavy, and soon she was out.

Noah nodded to the EMT, who pushed Rachel out of the apartment and down to the waiting ambulance.

He walked back over to Sam, who had been waiting patiently during the whole process. "Jesus fuck, tell me what the hell happened."

"I remembered you saying how you were worried about Rachel being alone, so I thought I'd stop over and look after her for a while. I buzzed up to the apartment, but no one answered," Sam said, looking Noah straight in the eye.

Noah was admiring how Sam didn't have a scratch on him. He must have snuck up on Finn as he was trying to murder Rachel.

"I was about to head home when someone walked out of the building. So I headed in, deciding to check and make sure Rachel was okay. The front door was unlocked, so I let myself in. When I walked in, I saw Finn on top of Rachel, choking her. I picked up the closest thing to me, which was the candlestick, and snuck up behind him. I hit him in the head, and he went down. I didn't know if Rachel was alive—she wasn't moving. So I called you."

Noah nodded his head, raking a hand through his hair. He was trembling from head to toe, his entire body filled with worry and rage.

"Sam, I want you to give your official statement to David, then head to the hospital. Get checked out, just in case. I'll stop by your house later to see how you're doing," he said, though he doubted he would.

He was never leaving Rachel's side again.

Noah rushed out of the apartment, jumping into his car and driving to the hospital. He ran through the front door, looking around. He ran up to the first nurse he spotted, stopping her. "I need to see Rachel Berry," he said frantically.

"She's in the emergency room, Sheriff," the nurse replied, looking up at him with calm eyes. "You'll have to talk to the nurse there if you want to see her," she said, pointing him in the direction of the ER.

Noah headed in that direction.

"Oh, and sheriff?" she asked.

Noah turned to face her again, though he really wanted to be running down the hall towards Rachel. "Yes, ma'am?"

"Is it true you caught him?" she asked. "Is it really over?"

Noah nodded his head once. "Yeah. We caught the bastard."

She mouthed a 'thank you' before he turned away, running in the direction of the emergency room. He pushed the doors open, looking around. The unit seemed relatively calm.

He looked around, spotting Michelle, a friend of his mothers who worked here. "Shell!" he called over to her.

She walked up to him, a smile on her lips. "Well well, Sheriff Puckerman. It's been a while. What are you doing here?"

"I'm looking for Rachel. She was just attacked, and someone said I could find her here."

Michelle pointed to a curtain. "She's behind there. She's been sedated, but the doctor just gave her something to wake her up. She should be up soon. I heard you were the one who gave her CPR."

Noah nodded his head.

"You probably saved her life," Michelle commented, patting him on the back before walking away.

Noah walked over, pulling the curtain open. Rachel was lying on the bed, her eyes closed. Noah couldn't take this. He couldn't take seeing her looking like she was dead. He pulled a chair up, sinking into it, burying his face in his hands.

What was worse than Rachel almost dying was his best friend having been the one to do this to her. He couldn't believe it. He'd never even considered that it was Finn. He hadn't wanted to consider anyone in town. He wanted to believe people were good, not capable of evil like this.

A hand running through his hair caused him to look up. Rachel was sitting up in bed, her eyes open. He flinched when he saw the dark purple ring around her neck, pulling her close instead.

"Don't you ever scare me like that again," he murmured, burying his face in her hair. He inhaled her scent, unable to believe he almost lost her for the second time. He was never letting that happen again.

Rachel's face was pressed against his chest, her arms wrapped around him. "Thank you for bringing me back to you," she whispered.

Noah and Rachel sat like that for almost an hour, locked in each other's embrace. She was discharged after that, Noah taking her back to his apartment.

The main room was a mess, footprints everywhere. Rachel stared at the bloodstain on the carpet from Finn's head wound, frozen to the spot.

"I'll make us some dinner," he murmured after a moment, leaving her side and heading for the kitchen.

"I'm going home," Rachel said, her voice dull.

Noah turned, facing her. "What?"

"I'm leaving, Noah. There's nothing left for me here. You caught the guy who did it. I can't stay here. All I can think about is how I almost died here twice. I'm dead to my fathers. I just want to go back to my small apartment in Philadelphia and forget this ever happened."

"But Rachel, what about—"

"Us?" she asked, her voice harsh. "Get real, Noah. Did you really think this was going to work out? You're the sheriff in a small town. I'm a writer in the city. Neither one of us is going to move for the other. Might as well just end it before someone gets hurt," she said, completely in contrast to hwat she had told him the night before.

She walked into his bedroom, starting to pack her things up. Noah followed her, looking completely dejected. "But I love you, Rachel."

She turned to face him, a pained expression on her face. "I know," she replied. "That's what makes this so hard." She zipped her suitcase up before shoving her laptop into her bag. She picked her purse up off the bed, looking up at him. She stood on her toes, pulling him close for a hug.

She headed out of his apartment, Noah following her. He carried her bags down for her, loading them into the trunk of her car. "Rachel, please think about this," he pleaded, holding onto her keys. "You're in no state to drive."

"But I am," a voice said.

Rachel looked up and saw Sam getting out of his car. "I heard you'd been released, so I thought I'd come and check on you. Leaving already?" he asked.

"Sam, I didn't get the chance to thank you for saving my life. Thank you," she said softly.

Sam shook his head. "Nothing to thank me for. I did what anyone would do. But you're leaving?"

"No she's not. She can't drive like this. She's on medication that makes her drowsy," Noah said defensively. You won't get back until late. Rachel, please think about this."

"You know, I could give you a ride," Sam offered.

Rachel shook her head. "Oh, I could never ask that of you, Sam. I'll be fine."

"You're not asking. I'm offering. I don't want you to die after I just saved you. I'll drive you back, then catch a flight home to answer any questions Noah has."

Rachel bit her lip before nodding her head. "Yes, alright. But we need to leave. I don't want you driving too late."

She turned to face Noah, who was looking as if his heart had been ripped out. "Won't you stay for me?" he asked quietly.

Rachel shook her head. "You have a job to do. You're never home. I'm lonely. I almost died twice. I think that's a sign this isn't meant to be. I love you, Noah. I really do." She pressed her lips to his, kissing him once. "Call me if you're ever in Philadelphia," she whispered into his ear before letting him go.

Noah watched her climb into the car as Sam turned the car on. She gave him a sad wave before the car pulled away and they disappeared.

Noah reached a hand up, wiping a tear away from his eye. She was gone. She was gone and she was never coming back. Nothing could make him feel better.

Well, nothing except beating the shit out of Finn Hudson.


	14. Chapter 14

**AN: Warning—there's a good amount of violence in this chapter. Also, a big thank you to everyone who's given this story a chance and decided to read it. This is very different from what I'm used to writing and I'm glad you all enjoy it. My guess is that there will be a few more chapters (2-3), then an epilogue. **

The first thing Finn Hudson noticed when he opened his eyes was that he was in a hospital. The next thing he noticed was that he was handcuffed to the bed. And the last thing he noticed was the death glare Sheriff Noah Puckerman was giving him from the chair next to his bed.

"Noah?" Finn asked, his head throbbing. He couldn't remember anything that happened. He remembered going over to Noah's apartment with food, but after that, everything went blank.

Noah's face tightened as he looked at Finn. Finn, who had been his best friend as long as he could remember. Finn, who stayed his friend even after he banged Quinn Fabray. Finn, who tried to kill Rachel twice.

"Why?" Noah asked, his voice quiet. "Why'd you do it, Finn?"

"Do it? What are you talking about, Puck?"

"God damn it, Finn!" Noah said, slamming his fist down on the bedside table. "I am in no mood to put up with your bullshit. Rachel's gone. She left because of what you did to her. I need to know _why_."

"Did to her? Puck, I can't remember a damn thing. I don't know what I did to Rachel. You have to tell me."

Noah sighed. "Okay, then tell me about Brittany. Why'd you kill her?"

Finn's eye opened wide. "Whoa, whoa, whoa! You think _I_ was the one who killed Brittany?"

"And Santana and Quinn and tried to kill Rachel an hour ago!" Noah shouted.

"Puck, I didn't do it! I swear! I would never hurt them, especially not Rachel. I know how much you love her. I could never do something like that to you. You're my best friend."

"Quit the bullshit! You were caught red handed."

"What?"

"Sam found you choking Rachel. He knocked you out and saved her life. And because of you, she left. She's on her way back to Philadelphia as we speak. Sam's driving her home."

Finn fell silent, thinking everything over in his head. His eyes widened a moment later, the realization hitting him. "Puck, this is bad. This is very, very bad," he whispered.

"No shit it's bad. I just lost my best friend and the woman I love in one day. I need to know why, Finn."

"I'm not the killer," he said, looking Noah in the eyes. "But I know who is. And we need to stop him, or he's going to kill Rachel."

xxxxx

Rachel fell asleep in the car, her body still tired from the day. Almost dying tended to take a lot out of a person.

Sam looked over at her as she slept, grinning to himself. This was working out more perfectly than he'd planned. Finn had been arrested, and he had all the time in the world to kill Rachel. He could make it as painful as possible, then leave. There was no way he was going back to Lima. When Rachel turned up dead, Noah would want to know why. He was thinking Fiji was a great place to start over.

And he was going to make her death painful. He was already plotting different things he could do to her. The nice thing was that he didn't even have to worry about people knowing it was him. He was going to disappear after this. Hell, he might as well leave a confession. He wanted people to know it was him, not that idiot Finn Hudson.

Sam was itching to finish Rachel off. He'd tried to kill the girl twice already, failing both times. The first time he hadn't expected her to fight back the way she did. He'd expected her to just be still and let him kill her.

But she should have died earlier today. She should have died before Finn got there. But she just passed out, and then Finn had to show up. Sam was just wishing he killed Finn instead of just knocking him out. Noah wouldn't have blamed him. In fact, he'd be stunned if he hadn't finished the job himself.

Rachel let out a soft sigh as she turned her head to the side, exposing more of her neck. Rachel had wrapped a scarf around her neck, attempting to hide the deep bruise he'd left on her. When she turned her head, the scarf fell and Sam got a full view of his handiwork.

He had to admit, it was impressive. You could see the markings of his fingers, small slivers of her pale skin interrupting the pattern his hands had made.

He wanted to do it now. He wanted to pull the car over and kill her. Fuck her, then kill her. Though, if he did that, someone was likely to see and he'd go to jail for the rest of his life. That was, of course, assuming Noah didn't kill him with his bare hands first.

No, he'd be patient and wait. Make up an excuse to get into her apartment, make her feel comfortable. And then, once she had let her guard down, that's when he would attack.

Yes, it was perfect. And it would work so well, too. Rachel was too trusting. She was like every other stupid girl—she trusted people, believed them even when they were lying to her.

Like when she'd believed he was Finn, even though he sounded nothing like him. She was a stupid girl, and, because of that, she was going to die.

Sam looked over at her again, the bruise on her neck turning him on. He gripped the steering wheel tighter, his foot pressing down on the gas. He took a deep breath, looking away from her. No, he had to wait. In a few hours, he'd be in Philadelphia. Then he could do whatever he wanted with her. He just needed to get her back before he started.

Sam reached over, covering her neck. He needed no distractions while he was driving.

xxxxx

Noah was looking at Finn skeptically as he finished speaking. "So you're telling me Sam Evans, my deputy, is actually the killer?"

"What don't you understand about that? He killed Brittany, Santana, and Quinn. And as soon as he has a chance, he's going to finish Rachel off. You've given him that chance. He has her. He can take her wherever he wants and kill her."

"How I know you're not just making this up so I don't kill you right now?"

"Because you're my best friend, and deep down, you know something has always been wrong with Sam."

Noah fell silent, not giving Finn a response. He was right. There had always been something off when it came to Sam. Noah had always figured it was because he was the new guy, he wasn't from Lima. But that wasn't it. He'd never fit in. He still didn't.

"Okay, so say I believe you. Why's Sam going to kill Rachel? He got away with killing the other three. Why's he going to risk that?"

"Because Rachel's the one he's after. He's already tried to kill her twice. He wants her dead. He has the chance to kill her, now. And he's going to. You've given him that opportunity."

The color from Noah's face drained. What if Finn was right? Was he willing to take the chance and stay here interrogating Finn while Rachel was in a car with Sam?

No, he wasn't.

Noah got up, walking out of the room without another word. David, his deputy, tried following him, but Noah waved him off, telling him to keep an eye on Finn.

He jumped into his car, speeding away. He needed to get to Philadelphia as fast as he could. Sam had an hour head start. Who knew what he could do in that time.

xxxxx

Rachel woke up about twenty minutes before Sam pulled up in front of her apartment. She stayed quiet during that time, not having the energy to talk.

When he turned the car off, Rachel climbed out of the car, lifting her purse up.

"Thanks again, Sam. I really appreciate this."

"It's the least I could do. You've been through enough today. Here, let me carry your bags up for you."

Rachel gave him a smile. "Well, aren't you a gentleman?" she laughed, punching in the code for the door. She climbed onto the elevator with Sam, the two of them taking it up to her floor.

Rachel pulled her eyes out, unlocking the door, allowing Sam to walk in first. He set her bags down, turning to face her. "Well, I suppose I should be going. I guess I'll find somewhere to stay for the night…"

"No, don't be ridiculous. Stay here. You can take my bed and I'll stay in Car—I'll sleep in the extra room," she whispered, deciding she'd sleep on the couch instead of set foot in that room.

"No, I can't put you out like that."

"Sam, I'm offering just like you offered to drive me. Now sit. I'll get you something to eat while I give my boss a call," she said, heading into the kitchen as she pulled out her cellphone, dialing James' number.

He picked up on the first ring, answering with his gruff voice. "Rachel?"

"Hi, James," she said quietly, guilt seeping into her voice. "I thought you'd like to know I'm back."

"You are? Why now?"

"They caught the guy…after he tried to kill me again."

"Rachel! I told you—"

"I know what you told me. That's why I left. I couldn't stay there any longer. A friend drove me back. He's the one who stopped the guy from killing me. I owe him my life. I'm just lucky he showed up then." Rachel gasped, covering her mouth. Her intuition had finally started working. And right here, standing in her kitchen, she knew she'd made a terrible mistake allowing Sam into her apartment.

"Rachel? Are you there?" James asked just as Sam walked into the kitchen, a lazy grin on his face.

"I thought I'd help you," he said, looking at her, his gaze intense.

"I'm fine, James," she said, her voice panicky.

"Rachel, what's wrong? Are you hurt?"

"No, no, don't be ridiculous. I'll get you that article first thing tomorrow. I'm not going to stop my job just because of a hospital visit." Sam was watching her curiously as she turned her back to him, heading out of the kitchen and down the hall towards her room, very aware that Sam was following her.

"Rachel, are you okay? Are you in danger?"

"Of course. Including the interview with Finn to show how he fooled everyone is a great idea." Please, James. Please send help, Rachel thought. Please understand what I'm telling you.

"Rachel, get out of there. If you can, hide. I'll get help. Just don't do anything dumb."

"I will. Bye," she said, hanging up the phone. She turned just as Sam forced her to the floor, him on top of her.

xxxxx

Noah was breaking every road rule on his drive to Philadelphia. All he knew was that he had to get to Rachel as fast as possible. She was going to die without him.

He passed into Pennsylvania, glancing at the clock. He knew they were at her apartment by now. He just didn't know if Rachel was still alive.

He picked up his phone, dialing Rachel's number. It rang and rang and rang, but she never picked up.

"Fuck!" he cursed, throwing his phone behind him. If she wasn't answering the phone, something had to be bad.

Well, she could be ignoring him, but he didn't think so. Sam had made it so she couldn't answer the phone. He just knew it was true. He felt it in the pit of his stomach.

Noah took a sharp turn, his knuckles white from gripping the steering wheel.

He still didn't know what he was going to do when he got there. Right now, every scenario had him barging in and murdering Sam with his bare hands. Even if Sam had a gun, that wasn't going to stop Noah from tearing the man limb from limb. No one hurt his Rachel and got away with it.

A few images of Rachel's broken, bleeding body flew into his mind. He almost crashed the car at that.

No, he was not going to think of her like that. She was still going to be alive when he got there. He had to believe that. She was going to be okay. He was going to get there in time and save her.

He was going to bring her back to him again. He had to.

xxxxx

Rachel screamed as she fell to the floor, Sam on top of her. He hit her across the face, which shut her up. Rachel stared up at him with fear in her eyes, expecting him to hit her again.

He didn't. Instead, he ripped the scarf away from her neck, his hands running over the circular bruise that was there. "Yes, very nice," he said, getting turned on once more.

Rachel closed her eyes before quickly pulling her arm back and punching him in the nose. She was sure she did more damage to her hand than she did to him, but Sam let out a howl of pain and rolled off her, clutching his nose.

Rachel jumped to her feet, running down the hall. Her cheek stung, her hand hurt, and she was moments from passing out. But she kept it together, shutting her bedroom door behind her and locking it. She pushed her dresser in front of it, hoping it would hold him off.

She pulled the window open, looking out. She was too high up to jump, and there was nothing for her to grab onto to climb out. She was stuck.

She heard banging at her door. To her horror, she saw the edges of the door splintering as Sam threw his body against it.

Panicking, Rachel grabbed the nearest weapon she could find—her razor—and hid in the closet. She wasn't going down without a fight. She closed her eyes, continuing to hear him banging against the door. She guessed she had a few minutes before he broke in and found her.

She also knew once she cut him with the razor, he'd kill her. Of course, he was going to kill her anyways, but he might be so enraged that he'd make it quick instead of making her suffer.

She heard a loud bang as the dresser fell to the floor and knew Sam was in the room. Rachel closed her eyes, praying for strength. She thought of Santana, how her apartment had looked after she'd disappeared. Santana hadn't given in and let Sam kill her. She'd fought back.

Rachel was not going to disappoint her.

The closet door flew open and Sam was standing there, his nose bleeding, fury in his eyes.

He grabbed Rachel by her hair, pulling her to her feet. Rachel hid the razor, letting out a yelp of pain as she was yanked up.

It happened in an instant. Rachel took the razor and sliced his arm. Sam yelled out and let go of her. She sliced him again, cutting his cheek this time. When she tried to cut him a third time, Sam grabbed her wrist, squeezing it. She gasped in pain, the razor clattering to the floor.

The next thing he did was hit her over the head, knocking her out. Rachel collapsed in his arms. Instead of catching her, he let her fall to the floor. He wrapped his bleeding arm and face with tissues, kicking Rachel in the ribs.

He wanted to kill her now, make her pay for fighting back like that. But that wasn't fun—he wanted her to be awake, to feel every ounce of pain before she died.

Instead, he took some rope, tying it tightly around her wrists, and then tying her ankles together. He placed a gag in her mouth, leaving her on the floor. He knew Rachel was going to keep screaming, so he turned the TV on, finding the bloodiest horror movie he could and turned the volume up loud.

That way, if people heard screams, he could claim it was just the movie.

He heard a groan as Rachel came to. She let out a muffled scream and he grinned, walking over towards her.

"Scream all you want, Rachel. No one's going to hear you now." She looked up at him, a look of terror etched onto her face.

That look she gave him…that did it. He felt himself going hard in his jeans and leered at her.

He pulled Rachel to her feet, extracting a knife from his pocket. Rachel looked at it with fear, trying to squirm away from him.

Instead of cutting her, he placed the blade under the fabric of her shirt, cutting it off.

He repeated the same process with the rest of her clothing until she was left in the ropes.

"God Rachel, you're so sexy like that," he groaned, running his hands over her body. She flinched away from him, trying to hit him.

Sam ducked out of the way, letting out a laugh. "Ooh, feisty. Santana was feisty, too. But I learned how to control her," he growled, punching Rachel in the eye. She fell to the ground with a thud, though she remained conscious.

She remained conscious as she heard Sam pulling the zipper to his jeans down. She remained conscious as she felt him inside her and was still conscious when he finally pulled out of her, finishing on her face.

She felt the tears rolling down her face, feeling utterly degraded at this point. She didn't know why this was happening to her or what she had done to deserve this.

She heard the door open and for a moment, she thought she was saved. Someone was here to save her.

Then she saw it was Aiden. Aiden, her ex-boyfriend. And suddenly, everything made sense.

xxxxx

As Noah turned onto Market Street, his phone started ringing. Cursing, he reached back and found it, flipping it open to a number he didn't recognize.

"What?" he snapped, making a sharp left turn.

"Noah? This is James, Rachel's boss. I think something's wrong. I called her, and she was acting very peculiar on the phone. I think she may be in danger."

"Did you call the cops?" he asked, screeching to a stop as the light turned red.

"They said there's nothing they can do. They can't go based off the fact that she was talking weird on the phone. You need to help her."

"I'm almost at her apartment. I realized it too late that I let a killer drive her here. I'll never forgive myself if something happens to her. And if she dies, I want you to kill me, James. This is all my fault. I can't believe I was so blind."

"Just save her, Noah. She's like a daughter to me. I can't lose her, too."

"I'm going to do everything in my power to make sure she's okay. I won't be able to survive if something happens to her."

"Just hurry," James whispered as Noah screeched to a stop outside her apartment building.

He jumped out of the car, hanging the phone up and throwing it into the car. He ran towards the building, throwing a garbage can through the glass door, jumping through the door and heading up the stairs, not knowing what to expect when he walked through the door of her apartment.

xxxxx

Aiden, it turned out, was Sam's cousin. And he'd convinced Sam Rachel had broken his heart. Of course, it was more like Rachel had gone nuts and Aiden couldn't deal, but she supposed that was one way someone could get their heart broken.

Regardless, Aiden was torn up about things after Rachel was committed. So torn up that he and Sam hatched a plan to teach the evil Rachel a lesson.

They made a plan to kill her.

After Rachel had been degraded a few more times, Sam and Aiden let her wrap herself in a blanket. At least for the time being.

"I don't understand," Rachel said, her voice hoarse. She'd screamed in pain so much, she was surprised she had any voice left at all. "If you wanted to kill me all along, why did you kill the other three?"

"Ah, that's the beauty of it. Brittany and Santana were Quinn's idea entirely. Of course, I had to kill her when she threatened to turn me in for trying to kill you. It's no loss, really. She was a total bitch."

"She was still a person. And now everyone thinks Finn killed them when it was really Quinn and you. I _knew_ it was her!"

Aiden sat on the ground beside Rachel, running a finger along her cheek. She flinched away, disgusted. Aiden grabbed her chin forcefully, turning her face towards him and kissed her hard. Rachel tried pulling back to no avail. Eventually, she bit his tongue, which earned her another slap.

She fell to the ground, spitting out some blood. "Sorry," she murmured, not wanting to get hit again. It wasn't about the pain—it was about surviving.

"Aw, I think she's starting to like us, Sammy," Aiden sneered, hitting her once more, just for good measure.

Rachel fell over again, staying on the floor this time. She was exhausted. The human body could only take so much before it shut down. Rachel's body was getting to that point. She'd been choked, hit, raped, and beat all in one day.

"Why don't you just get on with it and kill me?" she gasped, looking up at them. "That's what you came here to do, after all."

"You _want_ us to kill you?" Sam laughed. "What, you're not going to try and fight back anymore?"

Rachel looked up at them, her eyes dead. "I can't. I'm too tired. I just want it to be over."

"See, that's what I fucking _hate_ about you, Rachel," Aiden said, getting up and delivering a kick into her stomach. "You give up too easily. Like with Caroline. Instead of dealing with it, you took the coward's way out. Or tried to, at least."

"I mean, we're really doing you a favor. You wanted to die then and didn't. We're just helping you finish the job," Sam explained, pulling the knife out again. He grabbed her hair, pulling her up again.

Rachel let out a scream, crying. "Please, just kill me. I can't take this anymore," she sobbed, wanting it to be over. She couldn't take the pain, the humiliation. She just hoped Noah wouldn't have to see her like this. He didn't deserve to see her body broken the way it was.

Sam reached over, sliding the knife across her arm, the exact same place she'd cut him with the razor.

Rachel continued crying but didn't scream in pain. If they were going to kill her like this, she wasn't going to give them the satisfaction any longer of knowing she was in pain.

Aiden pulled out a knife from his pocket, pressing it into the skin on her leg, cutting her deep.

Rachel just stared at him, a determined look in her eyes. If they were going to kill her, they were going to look at her while doing it.

When she looked into Sam's eyes as he cut her chest, she saw nothing. No pity, no remorse. He was _enjoying_ this, enjoying causing her pain. It only made him want to continue.

Aiden placed a cut along her hip, causing Rachel to let out a gasp. She couldn't help it. It just hurt so much.

She was bleeding, both from the cuts and from the bindings around her wrists and ankles. She felt the pain vanishing and knew that was it. She was dying. She smiled at the two men, closing her eyes.

She could see Caroline now, her brown curls bouncing as she danced in the rain. Rachel wanted to run towards her, pull her into her arms, tell her how much she loved her.

Caroline turned and waved. "Mama!" she shouted, though her voice sounded distorted, like she was underwater.

There was a loud bang, and Caroline disappeared. Rachel was once more aware of the pain. It was too much to bear. She let out a loud scream as drops of blood fell onto her face.

At first, she thought they'd cut her head. It took her a minute to realize that was Aiden's blood, not hers. Aiden slumped to the floor, dead.

Rachel looked up and saw Noah standing in the doorway, his gun held in front of him. He was staring at Sam, a look of pure hatred on his face.

"One move," he growled. "One move and I pull this trigger and end your miserable life."

Sam looked at him and could tell that Noah wasn't bluffing. He dropped the knife, hands raised above his head.

Noah holstered his gun before calling the police, who promised they'd be there shortly. Noah dropped to his knees for the second time that day, pulling Rachel into his arms.

He didn't care that she was covered in blood or was staining his favorite shirt. He just cared that she was _alive_.

"You saved me," she whispered, reaching a shaking hand up to touch his cheek. "You came after me."

"Hey, I couldn't let you get away so easily again," he joked, though tears were falling down his face. He wrapped his arms around her waist, his left hand rubbing her back. "I love you so much, Rachel. Don't do that to me again," he whispered.

"Do what?" she asked, pulling her head back slightly to look at him, her eyelids drooping. She didn't have much energy left.

"Leave me and almost die." He kissed her once before lifting her into his arms. The police barged in at that moment, finding Noah holding the bleeding Rachel, and Sam with his arms still in the air, the knife at his feet.

The one nodded his head at Noah, who carried Rachel out of the apartment as they arrested Sam.

The ambulance was waiting for them. Noah lowered Rachel onto the stretcher, watching as the EMT cut the ropes off her. Rachel looked up at Noah with desperate eyes as the EMT placed an IV into her arm.

"Don't leave me," she whispered as he hung some fluids, trying to replace what she had lost.

"I'll never leave you," Noah promised. "I'll never let you out of my sight again. You're safe now, Rachel. I'll never let anything happen to you again."

As Rachel closed her eyes, the stretcher being loaded into the ambulance, she knew Noah was telling the truth.


	15. Chapter 15

_Six months later_

Noah walked up to the courthouse, adjusting his tie. He hated wearing suits, really. They reminded him of the time he had to go to a court and swear he was innocent of rape.

Of course, it had all turned out well in the end, but that didn't mean he hated wearing suits any less.

Unfortunately, he had to look presentable today. It was his day to testify. As the sheriff in charge of this case, it was obvious from the beginning that he'd be called on to tell his version of what happened.

Rachel was standing at the top of the steps waiting for him. She was dressed in a simple blue dress with a pair of short heels on. She looked better than she had the past few days.

When Rachel found out she was going to have to be in the same room as the man who had attacked her, Noah was worried she was going to try and kill herself again.

She didn't, however. She spent a few days in bed, breathing heavily and muttering to herself.

But this morning she had left Noah's place before he even woke up. At first he thought she had run, but the note she left in the kitchen promised she'd meet him at the court before the trial.

And there she was. Rachel had purposely worn short sleeves, wanting to show as much of the damage Sam had inflicted on her as possible.

Noah stopped at her side, extending his hand to her. Rachel reached out and took it, the scars on her arm already faded from six months ago.

"Are you ready for this?" he asked. Rachel was due to testify after him today.

Rachel nodded her head, though she looked very nervous. "I'm just worried about seeing him," she said softly. "I don't know if I can talk while he's there watching me. Can't I just tell my story without anyone watching?"

Noah shook his head. "No, that violates his right to confront his accuser. He has the right to be there while you're telling the court what happened."

"But what if he looks at me?"

Noah led her over to a bench, both of them sitting. Noah turned so he was facing her, his hands on her shoulders. "Rachel, he's going to be staring at you the whole time. He's going to be looking at you, trying to intimidate you, trying to make you scared. I want you to remember he can't hurt you now. He can't do anything to you. You're the one with all the power now. You have the power to send him to jail for the rest of his miserable life."

Rachel nodded her head, turning her head a little to the side. Noah saw the scar that ran across her collarbone, feeling himself tense. He pulled Rachel close, kissing the top of her head.

"I love you, you know. I love you more than anything else."

"I know," Rachel said softly. "I love you too."

Noah smiled at her, taking her hand and pulled her to her feet. "Just look at me while you're telling your story if you get nervous. I'll be right there, I promise." He kissed her cheek once before they walked into the entrance of the courthouse.

The room was filled with lawyers, cops, witnesses, and criminals. Rachel wondered which ones were the victims and which ones were the criminals. When they were in court, they all looked the same.

Rachel looked to the left and spotted Susanna Pucey, the prosecutor for the case. She'd been the one interviewing Rachel extensively about what happened and instructing Rachel how to tell her story.

She was also the one who told Rachel Sam's attorney was going to focus on her suicide attempt and hospitalization afterward. She told Rachel to be honest, but be strong. She told her not to show the attorney any weakness.

Susanna walked up to Rachel and Noah dressed in her usual skirt suit, sky-high pumps, and briefcase. Her dark hair was loose, the large curls falling over her shoulder. Rachel often thought she looked like one of those dancers you hire for parties who came looking all professional, then stripped of their clothes so they were left in a diamond bra and G-string.

"You ready?" she asked, looking at Rachel.

"I think so," Rachel replied quietly. "I'm just a little nervous.

"You don't need to be," Susanna said. "Your story is solid. The jury has already heard all the experts and family members testify. You're my star witness, Rachel. You're going to be the last thing the jury hears."

"And then they make a decision if he's guilty or not?" she asked.

Noah shook his head. "No, then the defense gets to bring in their witnesses. Then, they do closing arguments and the jury decides if Susanna proved beyond a reasonable doubt that Sam is guilty."

"And then he goes to jail?"

"If they find him guilty, yes. If not, he goes free," Susanna said.

Rachel nodded her head, looking out and spotting Sam as they led him into the courtroom. He caught Rachel's eye, gave her a wink, and then disappeared.

Rachel looked up at Noah, her body trembling. "I can't do this," she whispered. Susanna was already heading into the courtroom. Noah was supposed to follow her, but instead, he knelt in front of Rachel, wrapping his arms around her to try and calm her down.

"Hey, relax. You can do this. I'm going to be there the whole time." A guard came over to stand beside Rachel. "But I have to go in now to make sure I tell them everything so Sam goes to jail. This is Tom. He's going to wait with you while I go in." He gave her one kiss. "I'll be in the front row when you come in. Just look at me if you get nervous."

Noah turned, disappearing behind the large doors, leaving Rachel alone once more.

xxxxx

"Your Honor, I call Miss Rachel Berry to the stand."

The doors to the courtroom opened and Rachel was led in by Tom. The nerves that had disappeared during her talk with Tom suddenly reemerged when she realized everyone was looking at her. All the reporters were writing furiously as she walked in, the flashes from their cameras going off.

Rachel was led up to the stand and took a seat. She was sworn in. Before Susanna started her questions, Rachel closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She could do this.

"Hello, Rachel," Susanna greeted.

Rachel gave her a small smile. "Hello," she said softly.

The judge turned to her. "You're going to have to speak up a little, Miss," he said kindly.

Rachel nodded her head. "Yes, of course. I'm sorry," she apologized.

"Now, Rachel," Susanna continued, going slow. "Can you tell the court how you know the defendant, Mr. Samuel Evans?"

"We went to high school together for a few years. He moved to Lima my junior year."

"Did you graduate together?"

Rachel shook her head. "No, I left school before I graduated. I moved to live with an aunt and graduated there. I didn't see Sam again until about seven months ago."

"Can you explain your relationship with the defendant?"

"Relationship? We didn't have one. We both did show choir in school, but I would never have called us friends. He was close with my high school boyfriend, so we would go to the same parties and things like that, but we were more acquaintances than friends. I can't remember him saying more than five words to me unless we were in a group setting."

"Now Rachel, you said you left Lima during your senior year?"

"Yes, around March."

"Can you tell the court why?"

"I found out I was pregnant. My parents didn't want people knowing their only daughter had gotten pregnant in high school, so they sent me away. I hated it here, anyway, so it wasn't a big loss. When I came back into town seven months ago, that was the first time I'd been back since I left."

"Why did you return?" Susanna asked.

Rachel took a deep breath before turning her attention to the jury. "My daughter, Caroline, died in a car accident. I wasn't coping well, and in a moment of weakness, tried to end my life. Luckily, I wasn't successful, but I decided I needed a break from my life, so I returned back to my hometown to relax for a little."

"Can you tell us what happened the day you arrived in town?"

"Yes. Brittany Pierce's body was found in the woods."

"How do you know it was found then? Isn't it possible it was found the day before you got there, and it only became public knowledge that day?"

Rachel shook her head. "No. I'd run into an old boyfriend shortly after arriving in town. I used to date the sheriff, Noah Puckerman, when we were both in school. We'd gotten to talking when he received a call Brittany had been reported missing by her fiancée. Noah invited me along to the search. We were the two people who discovered her body. I didn't really look at her body. I just saw it from a distance."

"At the time, did you have any suspicions about who could have killed her?"

"Objection!" Sam's attorney shouted, jumping to his feet.

"Sustained. Miss Pucey, keep questions to things Miss Berry knows, not what she suspected."

"Yes, your honor. Walk me through what happened the first time you were attacked."

"I was at my parent's home. Noah and I had had a fight the night before and he wasn't speaking to me. I had an interview with Finn concerning Brittany. Shortly after he left, someone walked in and placed his hands around my neck. He tried to choke me, but I fought back and managed to get away."

"Did you see the man's face?"

"No, ma'am. He was wearing a mask. By the time I called for help, he'd gotten away."

"What happened after your attack?"

"Santana Lopez went missing. I knew it was the same man who had attacked me. He was mad that he didn't kill me, so he took it out on the next girl he could find."

"What happened the second time you were attacked?"

"Quinn Fabray's body had been found that morning, so Noah was gone all day. I was alone in his apartment, finishing up some work. I got a call on the intercom from Finn Hudson. I thought the voice sounded weird, but I let him up anyways. The next thing I knew, I was being choked. I woke up to Noah holding me. They sent me to the hospital."

"What happened next?"

"I knew I had to get out of town. I was told they'd caught Finn trying to kill me and he'd been arrested. I wasn't really in a state to drive, so Mr. Evans offered to drive me back to Philadelphia."

"What happened when you returned to your apartment there?"

"Sam carried my things upstairs for me while I made a phone call. When I was talking to my boss, I realized something was wrong. Sam had been the one who caught Finn, but the timing had just been too perfect. Why was he over at the apartment anyways? And how did he get up. I just…I _knew_ Sam was the one who attacked me, not Finn. I knew I was in trouble."

"What did you do when you realized this?" Susanna asked, her voice gentle.

Rachel took a deep breath, her hands trembling.

"Are you alright, Miss?" the judge asked, looking down at Rachel with concern. "Would you like to take a break?"

"No," she replied. "I mean, yes, I'm fine. No, I don't need a break. I need to tell my story before I change my mind. Sam tackled me to the floor as soon as I hung up the phone. He hit me, but I fought back and locked myself in my room. I grabbed my razor to try and fight him off, and then hid in my closet. I knew he was going to try and kill me as soon as he got the chance. I was prepared to go down with a fight. I wasn't going to let him kill me easily.

"Sam broke through the door and I heard him yelling." Rachel closed her eyes, letting the memories in vade her mind. She'd spent the past months trying to keep them away, but she needed them now. She needed the jury to know exactly what Sam had done to her. "He found me in the closet and pulled me up by my hair. I sliced his arm, then his face. When I tried to cut him again, he grabbed my wrist and caused me to drop the razor. He knocked me out after that."

"What happened when you woke up?" Susanna asked. "Take your time. I know this must be hard."

"I woke up on the floor, my hands and feet bound with rope. The ropes were cutting into my skin, causing them to bleed. Sam pulled me to my feet before pulling out a knife. At first, I thought he was going to cut me up as payback for what I did to him with the razor. He didn't. Not then, at least."

"What did he do instead?"

"He cut all my clothes off. He—he raped me after that. I kept praying to God to let me pass out, to not make me be awake for this, but I was fully conscious for all of it. He was rough, and I screamed the whole time. He pulled out of me before he climaxed, finishing on my face instead. I've never felt so degraded in my whole life.

"After he raped me the first time, I heard the door open. I remember feeling hopeful for a minute, that someone was here to rescue me. Sam didn't seem to care that someone had walked in on us."

"Who was it that walked in?"

"My ex-boyfriend, Aiden. I knew right then that I was dead."

"What happened next?"

"They took turns raping me. I tried screaming, but they'd turned on the TV to a horror movie loud so they could just claim the screams were from the movie. Once they'd finished, they let me wrap a blanket around me. I was still bound with the ropes, but at least I felt a little less exposed."

"What did you find out?"

"That Aiden and Sam were cousins and they'd planned to kill me for breaking Aiden's heart. I asked Sam about Brittany, Santana, and Quinn. He admitted to them, saying that was Quinn's idea, but he didn't mind going along with it."

"What happened after that?"

"They started hitting me again. Then the cutting started. I told them to kill me. I couldn't bear the pain any longer. That's when Noah came in. He killed Aiden with a single shot and threatened to kill Sam if he didn't drop the knife. He saved my life."

"Thank you, Rachel. No further questions, your honor."

Sam's attorney stood up. This was the part Rachel had been dreading. She knew he was going to make her out to be crazy, that she couldn't be relied on. But Rachel knew the truth. She wasn't going to let him bully her.

She found Noah sitting in the front row and smiled at him. He gave her a thumbs up before Sam's lawyer stood in front of her, blocking her view of Noah.

"That's a very intense story, Rachel. I know no one here can ever really understand what it's like to go through something like that."

Rachel shrugged her shoulders. "I survived."

"Yes, you did. Just like you survived your suicide attempt."

"Objection!" Susanna yelled. "Is there a question in there?"

"Get to the point, Mr. Larson," she judge ordered.

"Yes, judge. Miss Berry, was that the first time you'd been hospitalized for mental health issues?"

"Yes."

"But not the last?"

"Excuse me?"

"Isn't it true you were placed on a 72-hour psych hold after your first alleged attack in Lima?"

"Yes, but—"

"Thank you. Isn't it true the doctors thought you might have tried to kill yourself again?"

"Yes, but—"

"Thank you. And isn't true after your alleged attack by my client in Philadelphia, you were placed in a secure psychiatric wing once more?"

"I'd like to explain—"

"Yes or no, Miss Berry."

"Yes, but it wasn't—"

"Thank you. Had you ever self-harmed in the past?"

"No."

"But you cut your wrists," he pointed out.

"In a suicide attempt. I never cut myself just to cut."

"Okay, okay. Miss Berry, have you ever been the subject of a criminal investigation?"

"No," she said, feeling confused.

"Miss Berry, I'd like to remind you that you're under oath. Now, think hard. Have the police ever investigated you for anything?"

"No. I've never committed a crime," she replied.

Mr. Larson walked over to the table, picking up a folder. "Here, I have the investigation launched by the Philadelphia police department, declaring Rachel Berry a person of interest in the death of one Caroline Berry."

Rachel gasped. "I want to explain," she said softly.

"So you did know about this," Mr. Larson accused.

"It's not what it seems," she pleaded.

"Your honor, I'd like to strike this witnesses testimony. She has just perjured herself. How are we to know she didn't perjure her whole testimony?"

The judge turned to Rachel. "Miss Berry, can you please explain what you mean by 'it's not what it seems'?" he asked.

"The detective in charge of the investigation told me it's standard protocol to investigate everyone in an accident to make sure they have all the information. He said I was never a real person of interest, and I was cleared the day after they started the investigation. The other driver had been at fault, not me."

"Her testimony is valid. Get on with your questioning, Mr. Larson, or sit down," the judge snapped.

Noah grinned at Rachel, giving her another thumbs up.

"Miss Berry, have you ever had problems distinguishing truth from fiction?"

"I'm sorry?"

"Have you ever thought you saw something that wasn't really there?"

"No, sir."

Mr. Larson picked up another sheet of paper. "I have handwritten notes from your psychiatrist who cared for you following your suicide attempt."

Rachel froze. "Those are private," she whispered. "You had no right to look at them."

"On the contrary, Miss Berry, you gave permission for your records to be looked at in this case. That includes therapy sessions. 'Rachel has difficulty distinguishing fantasy from reality. She will sit in the day room and have lengthy conversations with her deceased daughter, Caroline. She refuses to admit that Caroline is dead and becomes agitated when members of the staff point it out.' Doesn't that sound like someone who can't tell what's real and what's not?"

Rachel had started crying. "I need to explain. I had a really hard time when Caroline died," she sobbed. "I didn't want her to be dead. My doctor said denial is a stage of grief. Two weeks later, I started coming to terms with what had happened. I stopped pretending she was alive and admitted what happened. My doctor said that was when I started getting better."

"Miss Berry, I understand you've been through a lot in your life, especially recently. Isn't it possible that the stress of being attacked cause you to misinterpret the situation you were in? Isn't it possible Mr. Evans was saving you from his cousin, that he wasn't really attacking you?" Mr. Larson asked, trying to sound kind.

"No!" Rachel practically shouted. "No, it's not. He _raped_ me. He raped me over and over until I started bleeding. He wouldn't stop, even when I begged him to. He cut me in so many places; the nerves on my skin still haven't healed. I haven't been able to trust anyone since the attack. I think every delivery man, every repairman is a killer. I keep thinking, 'Is he going to kill me? Is he?'

"Sam Evans ruined my life. I can't be intimate with my own boyfriend because of what he did to me. I can't even tell my own therapist the things he did to me because I know she'll be disgusted."

"Miss Berry—"

"No, you don't get to interrupt me," Rachel said fiercely. "Your client is a horrible person. He tried to kill me three times and almost succeeded the last. He planned for months with his cousin to kill me, and when I looked into his eyes at one point, he never showed any ounce of remorse. My screams caused him to enjoy it more. I can't sleep at night because every time I close my eyes, I see his face. I know I'll never escape him as long as I live. I'll never be normal again because of him."

The room was silent as Rachel finished, everyone looking up at her.

"No further questions," Mr. Larson mumbled, taking a seat back at his table next to Sam.

The judge turned to Rachel. "You're free to step down, Miss." Rachel nodded her head, stepping down from her seat. "We'll take a break for lunch and reconvene at 1 this afternoon."

Rachel ran over to Noah, jumping into his arms, laughing. "I did it!" she whispered, her face wet with tears.

Noah gave her a kiss on the lips, holding her close. "Yes, you did. I'm so proud of you, Rachel."

Rachel smiled at him, taking his hand. The two of them walked out of the courtroom and headed for Noah's car. Rachel had agreed to stay in town until the end of the trial, but then she was heading back to Philadelphia. Her book, _Hunted by a Killer_, was due to hit shelves next week.

Her little paper was now the most read paper in Philadelphia, and it was all thanks to her. James had started sending his reporters all over the country to cover murders, and they had become the number one place to get the latest news about violent crime in the country.

Rachel's book was about the Lima murders told from her point of view. The interviews with Santana were in there, as well as an entire chapter devoted to the events that led Rachel to Lima in the first place.

Noah had been very supportive of her the whole time, visiting her in Philadelphia every other weekend. He was still doing his job as sheriff in Ohio, but his heart was no longer in it. He missed Rachel all the time. Seeing her a few times a month was not enough for him.

"You know," he said as he shut the car door. "I was thinking."

Rachel smiled at him. "What were you thinking?" she asked.

"You know, I've done the sheriff thing for a while now. I solved the biggest case of my life. Anything after this is just going to be boring."

"So?" she asked, not sure what he was getting at.

"Well, I thought I'd try for a change. I always wanted to try living in a big city."

"Noah, what are you talking about?" she asked, biting her lip. Was he being serious?

"I just paid off the last of my rent and gave my landlord notice I'm leaving. It's been hell living here without you. And now that you're a big-time reporter in Philadelphia, I can't just ask you to leave all that and play house with me in a small town."

He reached into his pocket, producing a little box. Noah opened it, showing her a ring. "I also know that if I'm moving to Philadelphia, I'm making things official. I want to marry you, Rachel. I love you so much. I can't imagine my life without you. So, will you marry me?"

Rachel let out a laugh, a grin on her face. "Really?"

"Of course. You are my baby mama, after all. It's time I make things legal, even if it is seven years later," he joked, kissing her forehead. "So, is that a yes?"

Rachel smiled, pressing a kiss to his lips. "What do you think, you big dummy? Of course it's a yes."

"Good, then you can have this," she said, pulling the ring out of the box. He took her left hand, sliding it onto her finger. "There, perfect. It looks beautiful," he murmured.

Rachel kissed him once more before looking down at her finger as Noah drove away from the courthouse. She was engaged. She was going to marry the one person she'd ever loved. She couldn't think of a better person to marry.

xxxxx

Rachel and Noah walked into the courtroom, hand in hand. They'd gotten word the jury had reached a verdict, and both of them wanted to be there.

They took a seat in the front before Sam was led in. He looked like he had every day during the trial—he had a smug grin on his face, like he knew he was going to get away with it.

The jury was led in next. Rachel squeezed Noah's hand tighter, feeling herself panic. This was it. This was the moment she'd been waiting for. She didn't know what she'd do if they didn't believe her and found Sam innocent.

Rachel had been getting counseling as soon as she was released from the hospital following the attack. Once she was stabilized, she was moved to the psych unit because of her history—her doctor had been worried about her trying to kill herself again.

But she hadn't. What Sam had done to her had been awful, but she had never once tried to kill herself. If she did, that would mean he won. She didn't want to give him that satisfaction.

The counseling wasn't helping because Rachel refused to tell her therapist everything that happened with Sam. She knew things wouldn't get better until she did, but she didn't want her therapist knowing what Sam had done to her.

She thought she might be able to now. She'd put it all in her book and told the whole court every sick detail of what had happened in her apartment during the attack.

Writing the book had been helpful for her. Writing was always therapeutic for Rachel. James had read her draft once it was complete, and Rachel was pretty sure he was scarred for life. He'd offered her his spare room so she didn't have to live alone, but Rachel had kindly refused. She did go over to his house every Sunday for dinner, however. He was the closest thing she had to a father now.

Her real fathers had moved to Florida, wanting to get away from the 'shame' their daughter had brought on them. They'd adopted a four-year-old boy and replaced her with him. Rachel didn't even think about them anymore.

She didn't care about them.

She did care about what happened to Sam. The jury foreman stood up, an envelope in his hand.

"Has the jury reached a verdict?" the judge asked.

The foreman nodded his head. "We have your honor."

"On the first count of murder in the first degree, how do you find?"

"Guilty."

"On the second count of murder in the first degree, how do you find?"

"Guilty."

Rachel felt her heart soar. Sam was going to jail. He was going to jail and he was never going to get out.

"On the third count of murder in the first degree, how do you find?"

"Guilty."

"On the count of attempted murder in the first degree, how do you find?"

"Guilty."

"On the count of rape in the first degree, how do you find?"

"Guilty."

"On the count of conspiracy to commit murder in the first degree, how do you find?"

"Guilty."

Guilty on all charges! Rachel could have jumped up and down with joy. Sam was guilty of everything. He was never, ever getting out of jail. She was safe.

"Ladies and gentleman of the jury, we thank you for your service. You are dismissed. The defendant is remanded to custody pending sentencing."

Rachel jumped into Noah's arms as Sam was led out of the courtroom, yelling threats to every member of the jury. She kissed Noah, a smile on her face.

"You seem happier than you've been in a while," he commented when she pulled away.

"It's over. It's finally over. I'm free, Noah. I can close the door on all this unpleasantness and finally start over."

"You get to start over with me," he said, kissing the top of her head, running his thumb over her ring.

Rachel smiled, nodding her head. "Yes, I do. I love you, Noah. I always have. Even when I left, I never stopped loving you." Noah pulled her close, giving her another kiss.

The two headed out of the courthouse, climbing into Noah's car. "I'll drive you home," he said.

"To our home," she corrected, lying back against the seat.

"That's right, our home," he said with a smile, driving away, leaving Lima behind them.


	16. Chapter 16

_Four months later_

"Rachel, you look stunning."

Mary, James' wife was helping her get ready for her wedding. Noah and Rachel had decided they didn't want to wait long to get married. James and Mary had helped them plan for their big day. James even promised to give her away.

Rachel and Noah were going to be married at the park with a small reception at a local restaurant afterwards. They'd only invited a few people, not wanting a big wedding. James and Mary were going to be there, along with the rest of the staff at the paper. Noah's former deputies had flown in from Ohio, along with Becca and his mother. And Finn. Finn was there too.

Overall, there were only about fifty people there. Rachel and Noah had decided they wanted something small. Most of their close friends were dead, anyways.

Finn was serving as Noah's best man while Rachel had asked Annie, her old neighbor and former babysitter of Caroline, to be her maid of honor.

Rachel turned after adjusting her veil to face Annie and Mary. "Do you really think so?" she asked. She was wearing a simple white gown. It was a slim fitting strapless gown, hugging her body in all the right places. There was a strap that ran across the back, then a giant hole that exposed most of her back. The edges of the hole were covered in diamonds.

Mary had gone dress shopping with her, helping her find the perfect gown. In the end, they only had to go to one store. It was the second dress she tried on. As soon as she stepped into it, she just knew it was the one. Kind of like how she knew Noah was the one two weeks after going out with him.

Rachel's dark hair was half pinned up while the loose curls fell down her back. When she looked in the mirror, even she couldn't deny that she was beautiful.

"Do you think Noah's going to like it?" she asked, turning her attention to Annie.

Annie let out a small laugh. "Like it? He's not going to be able to take his eyes off you," she teased. "Where are you two going for your honeymoon?" she asked.

"Bermuda," Rachel replied, putting on a little lipstick. "We're staying for a week and then coming back here. Noah starts school next month, so we wanted a few weeks of married life before things get too crazy."

"So, he's really going through with it?" Mary asked, putting in a pair of earrings.

"Yes. He's actually quite excited. He can't stop talking about how he's going to be just like Susanna and put murders in jail. I keep telling him that starting out he's probably just going to be getting coffee for the older lawyers, but he's still excited."

"Well, I'm glad for him," Mary said before turning to Rachel. "James and I were talking last night, and we want you to have this." She held out a necklace. It was a simple necklace, but it was stunning. The whole chain was encrusted with sparkling diamonds with a small teardrop sapphire hanging from it.

"Oh, Mary. It's beautiful. But I can't accept this. It must have cost a fortune."

"It was James' mother's necklace. She wore it on her wedding day. It was her dream to have her daughter wear it on her wedding day, but unlucky for her, she had one son. We only had Thomas. You're like a daughter to us. It would really make us happy if you'd wear it."

Rachel felt herself tearing up. "I told myself I wasn't going to cry at least until I said 'I do.' I can't believe you two really feel that way about me."

"Rachel, don't be ridiculous. We've been there for everything in your life. I think Caroline's death hit James harder than it should have. When you were hired, I think he saw a little of himself in you. He took you under his wing and got closer to you than I liked. But I'm glad he did. After Thomas was killed, I didn't think I'd ever get over it. You'll never replace my son, but if I ever had a daughter, I know she'd be just like you."

"Mary, you know I see you and James as replacement parents for the ones who no longer speak to me. Of course I'll wear the necklace," she said, gesturing for Mary to put it on her.

Mary stood behind Rachel, placing the necklace around her neck and clasping it. "There, perfect."

Rachel stood before the two women, a grin on her face. James stuck his head into the tent as a light piano started. "Rachel?" he said, looking at her. "It's time."

Mary went to take her seat as Rachel took James' arm. Annie walked out, joining Finn. The two of them headed down the aisle before it was Rachel's turn.

She could feel every eye on her as she made her way towards the front. She saw Noah standing there, looking more handsome than she had ever seen him before.

She knew how much he hated wearing suits, but he really looked good in them.

"Breathe," James whispered to her. "You look beautiful, and I can see your soon-to-be husband thinks so, too."

Rachel looked at Noah again, seeing the unmistakable admiration in his eyes, paired with that look he got when Rachel wore something he particularly liked.

The two of them stopped just before they reached Noah. Rachel gave James a hug, kissing him on the cheek. "Even if we're not related, you'll always be the closest thing to a dad I'll ever have," she whispered.

James beamed before taking a seat beside Mary.

Rachel walked up, standing beside Noah as the rabbi started the ceremony.

"You look beautiful," Noah whispered.

Rachel grinned up at him, casting her eyes down for a moment. "Thank you. You look very handsome in that suit, even though I know you hate wearing it," she teased quietly.

"I am counting down the moments until I can take it off," he joked, causing Rachel to cover her mouth as she let out a small giggle.

"Stop making me laugh," she scolded. "We're supposed to be getting married right now."

"I know, I know. I can't help it. You're so beautiful when you laugh."

"Does that mean I'm not beautiful when I don't laugh?" she challenged.

"No. You're always beautiful," he promised.

Rachel smiled at him before the two of them turned their attention back to the rabbi. They read their vows when it was time, then kissed.

It was official. She was finally Mrs. Noah Puckerman.

The small crowd erupted in applause as Noah kissed Rachel again, pulling her into his arms. Rachel smiled against his lips, pulling away as the crowd continued clapping.

She slipped her hand into Noah's, the two of them facing their closest friends. Rachel couldn't keep the smile away, her face a light shade of pink.

The new Mr. and Mrs. Puckerman walked to the limousine waiting for them as the crowd tossed white and pink rose petals at them.

Noah pulled the door open for Rachel and helped her in before climbing in after her. They waved to the crowd despite the fact they'd see them soon at the restaurant.

Noah turned to Rachel once they were alone, placing a kiss on her lips. "I told you I'd marry you one day," he said, reaching a hand over to brush the single curl out of her face. "Don't you remember?"

"I remember you telling me every day from the moment I agreed to go out with you that we were going to get married and have five kids and have the most wonderful life ever," she teased, reaching down to pull her shoes off.

"Yes, but do you remember the moment I told you I was going to marry you?" he asked, loosening his tie. "I used to tell you that just to get you to blush. I mean when I told you and was totally serious."

Rachel pursed her lips, thinking as the limo drove through town. "It was junior prom," she said, remembering. "We were dancing—it was a slow song," she said. "You looked ever so handsome in your tuxedo," she teased, leaning over and kissing him on the lips.

Noah pulled her into his arms, kissing her back. "That's right. And you looked beautiful in that blue dress you were wearing. It's the only prom memory I have of you since you skipped town before I even had a chance to ask you to senior prom."

"I know, I know," she sighed. "And I've apologized and made up for that time and time again. We're married now, so you have to start letting that go," she said, scrunching up her face.

"I have forgiven you, silly girl. I asked you to marry me, and you were dumb enough to agree and actually go through with it. Now continue your story," he teased, tapping the tip of her nose."

Rachel shook her head at him before leaning her head on his shoulder. "Right. We were dancing at prom and you said I'd never looked more beautiful before. And then you said that you wanted to marry me. You said we were going to go to college together in New York and you'd officially propose to me before we graduated. Then we'd get married and have lots of babies. Of course, you put a baby inside me and screwed up your whole plan, but that's when you told me what your plan was and really meant it."

Noah smiled, wrapping his arms around her waist. "Exactly. You're right. And I meant every word of it," he said, pulling her close and kissed the side of her neck.

The limo pulled up to the restaurant a few minutes later, the driver parking the car.

Noah stepped out of the car first, helping Rachel out after him. He pulled her to her feet, giving her a kiss before taking her hand and leading her inside.

When he opened the door, he and Rachel were met with applause, everyone else already there and waiting for them.

Finn was standing at the front table, a proud smile on his face. "I'd like the present Mr. and Mrs. Noah Puckerman," he said as everyone cheered.

Noah pulled Rachel close and kissed her to the delight of everyone as her face turned red.

"I know, I know. Finally," Finn joked as Noah led Rachel to their seats at the front table. The couple took a seat, hand in hand as a waiter brought over a glass of wine for each of them.

"Hey, you have no right to talk," Noah joked, taking a sip from his glass. "Last time I checked, you still didn't even have a girlfriend," he laughed.

Finn shrugged his shoulders and grinned, draining his glass before taking Annie's hand and leading her to the dance floor.

Rachel smiled, leaning over and kissed Noah once on the lips. "I love you, Mr. Puckerman," she said softly.

"I love you more, Mrs. Puckerman," he grinned. Rachel smiled at her new name, pleasantly surprised by the butterflies that flew around in her stomach as he called her that. She couldn't believe how excited she was to finally be Noah's wife. It was a wonderful feeling.

Rachel casually poured her wine into Noah's glass when he wasn't looking, pretending she had drank it all when he wasn't paying attention. Noah drank a few more glasses, Rachel pouring her wine into his glass each time she was given more. When it came time for their first dance, Noah was more than tipsy.

The song started and Rachel leaned close to her husband, swaying slowly to the music. Rachel rested her chin on his shoulder, holding onto him tightly.

Noah let his hands drift down slightly. Rachel was so happy at the moment, she didn't even bother yelling at him for doing something so vulgar in front of other people.

"You know, you promised me you'd never lie to me again," Noah commented as Frank Sinatra's _The Best is Yet to Come_ played in the background.

"And I've kept that promise," Rachel said, her hand stroking his cheek as they danced.

"Then why am I more drunk than I should be after three glasses of wine and you're not even tipsy? You've been slipping your wine to me." He stared at her for a moment, the wheels in his head turning before the realization hit him. "How long have you known?" he asked.

Rachel's cheeks turned pink as a smile broke onto her face. "I don't know what you're talking about," she teased.

The song ended, but Noah couldn't move. He was staring at Rachel with a mix of excitement and disbelief. Without a word, he grabbed her hand and pulled her out of the room. He found a broom closet in the hall near the bathroom, pulling the door open and disappearing inside with Rachel.

"You know, the bride and groom are kind of important at a wedding," she teased. "I think people will notice that we're missing."

"Why didn't you tell me?" he asked finally, leaning over her as Rachel's back was pressed against the wall. "I can't believe you'd keep this from me." He was trying to sound annoyed, but Rachel could hear the excitement in his voice.

"I was going to tell you tomorrow. I didn't want to take the excitement away from the wedding or for you to think that I was willing to marry you so soon since I was pregnant. I just found out last Monday," she added.

"So, it's true?" We're having a baby?" Noah asked, his hands on either side of Rachel's face.

Rachel pulled him down, pressing her lips to his. "Yes, we're having a baby," she whispered. "And yes, you get to meet him or her. You're going to be there for the whole thing. I promise not to hide them away like I did with Caroline. I love you, Noah, and you're going to be the best father ever."

xxxxx

Nine months and hugely pregnant, Rachel was miserable. She'd been miserable since the second month of the pregnancy if she was being perfectly honest.

When she'd been pregnant with Caroline, she'd had the easiest time. Everything went well and she'd felt so happy the whole time.

This time, however, it was awful. She was sweating all the time and could never sleep. Plus, this kid was awful to her. They were always kicking, meaning she never got any sleep at night.

Rachel and Noah had moved out of the city and into a town twenty minutes north of Philadelphia where they'd gotten a good deal on a modest sized house. Noah was busy with law school, though he always brought Rachel's favorite pastry home from the bakery next to his school, which always brightened her day.

Of course, now that she was very far along, even that didn't seem to help. Rachel and Noah had been married for less than a year, but they'd hardly spent any time together as a married couple since Rachel had been pregnant the whole time.

Of course, that time was coming to an end and Rachel couldn't have been more thrilled. She was up late again, the baby's kicking keeping her up. She and Noah had decided they wanted to know what the baby was going to be.

When the doctor told Noah he was having a son, she thought he was going to faint. At first she thought he was disappointed—after all, he'd never gotten to meet Caroline, his daughter. But as soon as they left the doctor, he was talking about everything he was going to do with his son as soon as he was older. It was right then that Rachel knew she'd made a mistake not letting Noah meet his daughter.

Rachel walked into the nursery she and Noah had set up, taking a seat in the rocking chair. Her feet were aching and she was exhausted. The only problem was the kid wouldn't stop kicking.

"Please, baby," she cooed softly, letting out a yawn. "Mommy needs as much sleep now as possible. You're going to be here soon and then I won't get any sleep for a few years. I promise you can keep me up then if you let me sleep now."

The baby gave her another hard kick and Rachel winced in pain. She couldn't remember Caroline being this bad—it was probably because this kid was a boy instead of a girl. The morning sickness had been worse this time around as well. If Rachel and Noah ever decided to have another baby after this one, she prayed it was a girl.

Rachel rocked back and forth, hoping that would calm the kicking baby. Of course, it didn't work. Nothing seemed to work with this kid. She couldn't tell what he wanted. Maybe she'd been out of practice so long that she'd forgotten how to be a mother.

Rachel hated thinking about Caroline—it hurt too much. But she remembered that every time Caroline was upset or sick, she loved having Rachel sing to her. She'd fall right asleep. If it worked for one, maybe it would work for both.

"Okay kid, listen up," she muttered, slowly standing up and walking to the window, staring at the moon. "I used to do this for your sister all the time and she'd fall asleep. I'm at my wit's end, so this better work."

She placed her hands on her very round stomach and started singing. She hadn't sung for so long, it sounded like a stranger's voice at first. After a few lines, she got back into the rhythm of things and her voice became stronger, the melody flowing out of her lips.

_Lullaby and good night, with roses bedight__  
__With lilies o'er spread is baby's wee bed__  
__Lay thee down now and rest, may thy slumber be blessed__  
__Lay thee down now and rest, may thy slumber be blessed___

_Lullaby and good night, thy mother's delight__  
__Bright angels beside my darling abide__  
__They will guard thee at rest, thou shalt wake on my breast__  
__They will guard thee at rest, thou shalt wake on my breast_

Rachel sunk back into the rocking chair, the baby's kicking slowing but not stopping completely. She let her hands rest on top of her enlarged stomach, closing her eyes, though opening them again as the baby kicked her.

"Little man at it again?" she heard a voice ask. She looked up, seeing Noah standing in the doorway of the nursery. He was in his favorite pajama bottoms with no shirt. Rachel was pleased to find out that even when she was hugely pregnant, Noah still looked at her like she was the most beautiful girl in the world.

Rachel nodded her head, letting out a tired sigh. "I think this kid is determined to kill me. It must be a boy thing. Caroline was so much better behaved when I was pregnant with her," she complained.

Noah smiled, taking a seat on the footstool in front of the rocking chair, pulling Rachel's feet into his lap as he started gently massaging them. "You just need to show that kid who's the boss," he said.

"But you're the boss around here, not me," she laughed.

Noah gave her a look. "Baby, we both know who's in charge in this family and it ain't me. You hear that, kid? Give your mom some rest. She's like an angry bear the next day when you don't let her sleep at night."

Rachel gave Noah's chest a gentle kick with her foot as he said that. "I resent that, Noah. I'm perfectly wonderful to you even if the little guy kicks all night and refuses to let me sleep."

Noah stood up, kneeling in front of Rachel, his hands on her stomach. "Alright little man. Listen up. You've got to let your mom and me get some sleep since you're going to keep us up every minute of the day once you're here."

Rachel smiled as the baby seemed to settle down in her stomach. "I think he likes the sound of your voice," she commented. "He's so smart. Not even born and he knows his daddy," she teased.

Noah leaned forward, kissing Rachel's lips quickly. "He sure is smart. He already learned never to listen to his mom," he teased, earning him a push from Rachel. "You know, we still need to come up with a name for him. We can't just keep calling him the little monster after he's born," he joked.

"I have never once called him a monster, no matter how miserable he's making my life now."

"Well, regardless, he still needs a name. I don't want my son to go around nameless for his whole life."

Rachel nodded her head in agreement. "Have you thought of anything yet? I mean, Caroline was such an easy name to come up with. It was the first thing I thought of when the doctor told me I was having a girl."

Noah placed his lips on her stomach, placing a kiss there. "It has to be perfect. My son has to have the perfect name," he said.

"Well, you have to start thinking of names before we can decide what the perfect one is," she said. "And I think I want at least his middle name to be Jewish."

"No, I like that idea. What about David for his middle name?" Noah suggested.

"I love it," she said. "I was thinking Zachary for his first name. We could call him Zach for short."

Noah smiled widely, kissing her stomach again. "Zachary David Puckerman. The perfect name for my perfect son." He leaned his ear against her stomach as Rachel ran her fingers through Noah's hair, starting to fall asleep in the chair. "I can't wait to meet you buddy. You're going to be the best thing I've ever done in my life. Well, second best to convincing your mom that I was worth her giving me a chance."

Rachel smiled, rubbing Noah's arm as he kept his head against her stomach. "That was the best thing I ever did in my life too," she whispered, smiling at Noah.

xxxxx

Noah was walking out of class as he felt his phone buzzing in his pocket. He picked it up, looking at the screen with a little confusion. Why would Rachel be calling him—she knew he had class all day.

He answered it, putting the phone to his ear. "Babe, I can't talk. I've got another class in fifteen minutes. I'll call you when—"

"Noah!" Rachel interrupted. "I think the baby's coming," she said, though it sounded strained as if she were in pain.

"Are you sure?" he asked, feeling his breathing hitch a little. Was he really about to become a dad?

"Well, there's a pool of water on the kitchen floor, I'm in more pain than I've ever been before, and the only other time this happened was right before Caroline was born."

"Okay, okay," he said, sprinting away from the school and towards the parking lot where his car was parked. "I'm on my way. Call James and see if he can drive you to this hospital. I'll meet you there."

Noah jumped into his car, turning the ignition and pulled away from the school quickly.

He was positive he broke every rule of the road driving to the hospital. He was lucky he didn't get into an accident the way he was driving. Luckily, he made it to the hospital in one piece. He hastily parked his car and sprinted inside the building, looking around frantically.

A nurse pointed him in the right direction and he ran towards the area. He found Rachel in the room with James and Mary at her bedside. She was lying in a hospital bed and moaning in pain. She had a few monitors hooked up to her, but there was no doctor or nurse in the room.

Noah took a seat at Rachel's side, holding her hand in his. "Hey, I'm here," he promised, kissing the top of her head. "I told you I'd get here. Now all you need to do is relax."

xxxxx

Six hours later, Rachel was sitting in bed pushing. There was lots of yelling and crying and Rachel telling Noah she was never having sex with him again, but finally, a small but loud cry interrupted everything.

Rachel fell back against the bed, exhausted. Noah was at her side, kissing the top of her head.

"You did amazing, Baby," he whispered in her ear, a few tears falling down his face. He wanted to look at Rachel, but he couldn't tear his eyes away from the crying mass of flesh in the doctor's arms.

Eventually, the doctor carried the baby over to them, setting him in Rachel's arms. The kid was wrinkly, covered in blood, and screaming his head off, but Noah knew he'd never seen anything more perfect in his life.

"Hey there, buddy," he said, reaching a hand over and stroking the small baby's cheek. The baby stopped crying, looking up at Noah with big, brown eyes. His wife looked up at him with the same eyes at about the same time.

"Hi, Zachary," she cooed, kissing the baby's forehead. She heard the camera clicking as James snapped a few pictures of the family, but she could have cared less. She had her husband by her side and her son in her arms. The only thing that would have made things perfect was Caroline by her side as well.

But you can't have everything you want in life.


	17. Epilogue

_Six years later_

Noah unlocked the front door to his house, opening it and walking inside a moment later. He set his briefcase on the ground by the door before slipping his shoes off.

He was home early for once—the meeting with his boss had ended a few hours earlier than he thought it would. Now, he was free for the next two weeks. The holidays were coming off and he'd taken some time off to spend with his family.

He smiled as he walked down the hall towards the bedroom he shared with his wife, pictures of his kids covering the walls.

Noah walked into the bedroom, taking off his jacket and setting it on the bed. The house was silent, something Noah was not used to.

Two years after Zach was born, Rachel found out she was pregnant again. It had been a surprise to the both of them—they hadn't been trying for a new baby just yet. However, they both welcomed the surprise. Nine months later, Leah Rebecca Puckerman was born.

Now, Leah and Zachary were growing up before his eyes. Six-year-old Zach was the spitting image of Noah when he was six. The kid had dark brown hair that he liked to keep buzzed short—just like his dad. The best part of Zach was his eyes—they were exactly the same as Rachel's.

Wednesdays were piano lesson days, so that meant Rachel and the kids were due back any moment. Rachel and Noah had decided to start Zach on the piano, then let him decide if he liked it or not.

The kid was a natural. He picked up the piano like it was the easiest thing in the world. He also loved it. Rachel and Noah bought him a piano for his birthday that year so he could play as much as he wanted to.

Soon, he started playing every day just because he loved it so much. It wasn't long before Rachel began singing again. It turned into an everyday thing: Zach would play the music and Rachel would provide the words.

If someone had told Noah when he was a kid that his life would turn out the way it had, he'd have told them they were lying.

But he was glad it had turned out this way. Noah loved his wife and he loved his kids more than anything else in the world. He had always thought from the moment he met Rachel that he would marry her. Of course, after she left town, all his plans had gone out the window.

He supposed it was luck that she came back to town just as the biggest case of his life started. At first, it had been the only thing keeping her in town. Towards the end, though, he liked to think it was really him keeping her in Lima and not the story.

After Rachel's book about the murders hit the shelves, people didn't seem to be able to get enough of it. She did the talk show circuit and helped write the screenplay for the movie. The movie was a success, but Rachel didn't seem to want to do the Hollywood thing.

She was happy in the suburbs being a housewife. James and Mary, unable to be far away from Rachel and Noah, moved two blocks away from them a few months after Zachary was born.

James had become the only grandfather Zachary and Leah had ever known. Rachel's fathers had written her off ever since she got pregnant in high school and hadn't spoken to her since before they were even engaged.

It didn't seem to matter that much to her. James was the best grandfather Rachel could have ever wanted or her kids. He was over at their house at least three days a week, babysat Leah and Zach when Rachel and Noah wanted to spend some alone time together, and even cooked a 'family dinner' every Sunday at his house.

Noah heard the door open and his wife's voice filled the front hallway of their house.

"Zach, you know I said it was okay, but you'll have to ask Daddy when he gets home and see if it's okay with him."

Noah heard Leah giggling about something, and he imagined Zach was making goofy faces at her like he always did.

"Now go take your sister into the playroom and I'll make the two of you a snack," he heard Rachel say.

Noah stepped out of the bedroom and headed down the hall, finding his son and daughter attempting to turn the television on.

"Daddy's home!" Zachary yelled, running over to his father and launching himself into his arms. Leah stayed where she was, looking up at her father with a huge smile on her face.

Rachel emerged from the kitchen, a smile on her lips as she shook her head in amusement.

"I thought you were supposed to be at work," Zach said, his arms around his father's neck. "Did you get in trouble?" he asked.

Noah laughed, setting his son on the ground. "Nah, buddy. I'm just on vacation now. Come on, let's put the TV on and wait for your mom to make us something to eat," he said, sending a wink in Rachel's direction.

Rachel rolled her eyes at him before disappearing a moment later. Noah helped Zach and Leah turn the television on, putting on some kid's show he'd never heard of before, setting his daughter in his lap while his son sprawled on the floor, his entire attention on the cartoon that was playing.

Rachel came in after a few minutes, two small plates of food in her hands. She handed on to Noah for Leah and set the other one in front of Zach.

"Noah, Zach has something he wants to ask you," she said as a commercial came on, looking down at her son.

Zachary sat up, looking from his mother to his father.

"Go ahead," she said, nodding once at him.

Noah watched curiously, handing Leah a piece of fruit to eat.

"I want to see Caroline," he said. Noah inhaled sharply at that, not sure what to say. Every year, Noah and Rachel would visit Caroline's grave a few times. Her birthday was one of their visit days.

Today was her birthday, which meant Zach and Leah would be staying with James and Mary for the night while Noah and Rachel headed into Philadelphia.

Rachel kept her eyes on Noah, waiting for his answer. Zach seemed to be bouncing where he sat, not even noticing his show had come back.

Noah smiled, nodding his head. "Sure, bud. You're old enough now. Leah will stay with Grandma and Grandpa and you'll come with Mom and me."

Zach jumped up, clearly excited about Noah's answer. Rachel flipped the television off, earning a complaint from Zach.

"No, you have to go get changed and packed. We're leaving for Grandpa's house in half an hour. Here, I'll help," she said, taking his hand and leading him to his room.

Noah always knew the day would come when his son would want to know about Caroline—he just hadn't expected it to be so soon.

The visit to Caroline's grave had always been something special he and Rachel had shared. Rachel had brought him there the first time he visited her after Sam had been arrested, and it had become a special thing for them.

He'd wanted to say no, to tell his son that he was too young to come, but the look on Zach's face stopped him. The kid looked so excited, so eager. It looked like Noah Puckerman had turned into a big softie since leaving Lima.

Rachel came back with Zach and a small suitcase. She's put him in a pair of khaki pants and a long sleeved shirt, his coat resting on the top of his suitcase. Leah's suitcase was in her other hand.

"Noah, why don't you get our suitcases and I'll get the kids in the car?" his wife suggested. Rachel was dressed in a simple black dress with heels, her favorite strand of pearls resting on her chest.

Noah was always amazed by his wife's strength. He couldn't even begin to imagine what Rachel had gone through—he'd only seen the after effects of it. He hadn't been there when she was being raped and tortured. He hadn't been there when she'd seen Caroline's dead body lying on a stretcher, and he hadn't been there when she'd taken a knife to her wrists and tried to end the pain.

He was here now, though. He was there at night when Rachel woke up screaming from another nightmare. He was there to hold her in his arms and remind her that everything was okay. Sam was in jail, Aiden was dead, and she was safe.

Sometimes it wasn't enough. Rachel was now best friends with the warden at the prison where Sam was. She probably called him four or five times a week, just to make sure he was still in there.

Her worst fear was one day he'd get out and kill her, though that was as impossible as a fish living out of water.

Still, even with all her emotional scars, she powered through the days, being the best mother and wife someone could be. Her body still bore the scars Sam's attack had left her with, but that only made Noah love her more.

Noah walked into their room, grabbing their suitcase and headed out to the car, tossing it into the trunk. Rachel was buckling Zach into his car seat when Noah climbed into the car, turning the ignition on. James and Mary were expecting them shortly.

It was the same every time they visited Caroline—Noah and Rachel would stay for an hour, leave the kids, then head into Philadelphia until the morning.

Rachel climbed into the car and buckled her seatbelt as Noah pulled away from their house. Rachel rested her hand on his arm as he drove off, giving him a warm smile.

"How were the monsters today?" he asked her, glancing back at his two children in the car.

"No more awful than normal," she joked. "Zach's piano teacher thinks he's got a real gift," she said. "She's planning a recital for some of her students next month and she wants Zach to perform. Isn't that wonderful?" she asked.

Noah smiled and nodded his head. "It is, but it's not surprising. Kid's got two amazingly talented parents. I wouldn't expect anything less."

Rachel kissed his cheek, earning a complaint in the back from Zach. "No kissing, Mommy!" he yelled.

"Oh I'm sorry. I forgot my kisses are only for Prince Zachary," she teased, causing her son to stick his tongue out at her.

Noah pulled into the driveway at James and Mary's house, turning the car off. Rachel picked up Leah, carrying her inside while Noah was left with Zach.

He helped him out of his car seat, setting him on the ground and taking his hand as he led him inside.

James had retired a few years ago, leaving Rachel in charge of the paper instead. She'd turned down the position, choosing to be a stay-at-home mother instead. She would get calls and offers for a talk show whenever there was a high-profile murder, but Rachel always turned them down. She didn't like looking into death like that—it reminded her of how close she had come to being another victim.

James was holding Leah when Noah and Zach walked in while Mary and Rachel were in the kitchen cooking something delicious.

"Noah!" James laughed, tossing Leah once in the air before catching her again. "How have you been? I feel like you're always working when I'm over your house anymore."

"Good. I've just been busy—we've taken on a bunch of new cases recently, so my wife feels the same way you do."

"Maybe now that he's on vacation I'll finally get to spend some time with him," he heard Rachel call from the kitchen, causing both Noah and James to chuckle.

"She just wants me around so she can go to the spa and I can take care of the kids," he joked.

Rachel stuck her head out of the kitchen, pointing a dripping spoon at Noah. "I resent that," she said, making a face before disappearing once more.

James laughed before sitting down on the couch. He and Noah fell into a conversation while the kids played. Mostly it was about Noah's work, but towards the end, Rachel came up.

"How's she doing?" James asked in a whisper, not wanting Rachel to know they were talking about her. "Is she sleeping any better?"

Noah shrugged his shoulders. "Better than the beginning, but she still wakes up screaming at least twice a week. And she's always calling the warden to make sure he's still locked up. I don't think it's ever going to change—she went through something that neither of us will ever understand. Maybe in another few years she'll get better, but I'll understand if she doesn't. She's strong, but even the strongest people have their breaking point."

James nodded his head in agreement. "I don't know if she'd have been able to deal without you, though. I was here after Caroline died, and she was a mess. I kept expecting her to fall back into that dark place after she came back from Lima, but she didn't. The only explanation for why she held it mostly together is you. You held her together, and for that, I will always be eternally grateful."

Noah nodded his head, ending the conversation as he saw Rachel coming out with a plateful of something. The group ate while Rachel shared the news about Zach's upcoming recital. James and Mary promised to be there before cleaning up the empty plates.

Noah and Rachel bid James, Mary, and Leah goodbye before taking Zach back to the car and started their drive towards Philadelphia.

Like usual, Zach fell asleep during the drive, leaving Rachel and Noah free to talk about anything.

Noah took the exit to the city before deciding to bring up what he really wanted to discuss with his wife. "Rachel, are you sure you're okay?" he asked.

"What do you mean, Noah? Are you asking me if I'm sick?"

"No, no," he said. "I'm just worried about you. The night screaming, the constant calls to the warden…I just don't want you disappearing into that dark place you were in once and not come back."

"Noah, the screams and the calls are so I don't go there again. Do you know why I wake up screaming? It's because I see Sam's face in my head when I sleep. I see him killing Santana and Brittany over and over. I see him breaking out of jail and killing our children. That's why I call the warden. I need to protect our kids from him, and the only way I can do that is to make sure he's locked up in a place where he can never get to them. You may not think it's healthy, but it's the only thing that keeps me sane."

Noah stopped the car in the parking lot of the cemetery, turning the car off. "Okay," he said, kissing her forehead. "But just because you say it keeps you sane doesn't mean I'm going to stop worrying."

"That's something I can live with," Rachel said with a smile. The two shared a short kiss before waking Zach up, Noah lifting him into his arms as they headed into the graveyard.

There were tombstones everywhere. Some were very large while others were small. Having made the journey many times, Noah knew exactly where to go.

He stopped in front of a small stone. It was white marble with a Star of David etched on the top of it.

_Caroline Noel Berry. Beloved daughter. November 16, 2012-June 7, 2019._

Zach looked at the stone as Rachel read what it said. She handed him a picture of Caroline before laying down flowers in front of her grave.

"What was she like, Mommy?" Zach asked, looking at the picture.

"She was wonderful. You would have liked her a lot, Zach," Rachel answered, feeling a few tears fall from her eyes.

Zach reached over to his mother and Noah handed Rachel their son. Zach hugged Rachel tightly, kissing her cheek. "Don't be sad, Mommy. She's with the angels now and making sure you don't make me eat broccoli."

Rachel laughed at that, hugging him back. "Oh, you sweet boy. You're right, she's making sure I don't torture you too much," she said, kissing his forehead.

The three of them stayed there for a while before deciding to head to the hotel. Rachel and Noah each took one of Zach's hands, walking back to the car.

"Do you think I'll ever get to meet her?" Zach asked, looking up at Rachel.

Rachel smiled down at him. "Of course you will. You'll meet her when you go to heaven. But not for a long time, sweetheart. Not for a long time."

_**THE END**_


End file.
